The Littlest IAB
by tarheelveteran
Summary: A computer hacker is murdered. Stolen police identities may be used for a terrorist attack.  Meanwhile, a stray cat turns Rick Stetler's life upside down while helping him solve the most dangerous case the MDPD has ever seen.
1. Animal House

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of CSI Miami characters or intellectual properties. Please don't sue me; my lawyer's in jail. **

**A/N: Special thanks and a shout-out to CSI Babs for letting me borrow Blizzard, her white cat. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1—Animal House<strong>

The small apartment had obviously been ransacked. Faded sofa cushions had been flipped over and sliced open. Pillow cases from the studio couch had been turned inside out. Feathers and batting now lay scattered about like a snowstorm. Books and computer magazines had been thrown across the room and lay scattered open. Pictures and diplomas had been snatched off the wall and now rested in seas of broken glass. CD's and DVD's had been hurled around the room like Frisbees. Even the refrigerator had been emptied out in a hurry, it seemed. Food now lay scattered on the linoleum in front of the open door.

The man looked to be in his early twenties. He had curly blonde hair, old acne scars, an unshaven face, and his gray eyes were open in fear and surprise. He wore an old brown tee shirt and jeans. He had fallen backward in his old gray office chair, his head now resting in the black blood pool in the worn brown carpet. His scratched hands were raised up at his side. The hole in his forehead told them the whole story. His computer screen was dark. Someone had yanked the plug out of the wall. Old plastic soda bottles littered the floor, obviously knocked over in a hurry.

"Name's Walter Mullinax" Frank said. "Known on the internet as Serial Velocity. Computer hacker. Couple of priors for ID theft and credit card fraud. He's been renting this upstairs apartment. Landlord lives downstairs. Said he came home and saw there was a leak in the ceiling. Came up to check on the problem and found this."

Horatio fingered his sunglasses as he stood behind Alexx. "So that blood pool seeped through."

"Landlord said he was out of the house this morning. Nobody heard a thing. No arguments, no gunshots, nothing."

"I see. What have we got, Alexx?"

"Through-and-through, Horatio" she said as she looked up at him, motioning toward the red tear above his eyebrows. "He's still in full rigor, meaning he's been dead at least six hours." She then gently lifted his head and motioned with her gloved fingers. "Exit wound right here. Turned him off like a switch. But judging from the blood pool, I'd say it would be closer to twelve."

"Residual spatter on the computer terminal suggests he was executed while sitting up" Horatio observed. "The angle of the fallen chair suggests he had turned to the side of the computer toward the front door, and then the surprise on his face. He knew his shooter."

Frank nodded as he looked around the room. "Definitely looking for something."

"Yes" Horatio agreed. "And Serial Velocity wouldn't give it up."

Calleigh and Ryan stood in the doorway and surveyed the mess while snapping on latex gloves.

"I'd say we're gonna be a little busy" Calleigh said. "Think you're gonna need me to retrieve a casing."

Ryan opened his fingerprint kit as his eyes scanned the doorjamb. "Doesn't look like any forced entry here."

Horatio's blue eyes scanned the littered brown carpet as he stood next to Ryan. "Mr. Wolfe. Do you see that?"

Ryan knelt down and looked carefully through the torn foam rubber and feathers. "Dog hair?"

"Maybe. Did Mr. Mullinax have a dog?"

"I checked the back" Calleigh said as she pointed behind her. "Got just a water bowl. Might have been an outdoor cat. No litter box. Back door was unlocked, but no signs of forced entry there either."

"Landlord didn't allow Mr. Mullinax to keep pets" Frank said. "Thinks he might have been keeping a cat, but couldn't prove anything. He's seen a white cat that's been crawling around. Didn't have a collar."

Ryan opened his kit and took out tweezers and an evidence bag. "If he did, it's probably long gone by now." He studied a small white hair with his tweezers before dropping it into the baggie. "Either a dog or a cat. A white one. I'll get these hairs back to the lab. That fur runs deep into the couch. He's had a pet here for quite a while."

"Do that, Mr. Wolfe. And put out a call to Animal Control. See whether they've picked up any stray animals in this area in the past couple of days."

IAB agent Rick Stetler suddenly stood at the doorway, arms folded over his paisley tie. He kept his head tipped down, watching suspiciously.

Horatio stopped and leveled his eyes at his rival. "Welcome to the party, Rick."

Rick smirked at the redheaded lieutenant. "You know it's my job to survey you at least twice a year" he asserted. "And since I live in the neighborhood, this would be easy."

"Yes. How convenient."

"Just doing my job."

"Thank you, Rick. Now excuse me while I do mine."

Nobody paid Rick any more attention. With gloved hands Calleigh removed a round from the wall and studied it. "This was our round. Nine millimeter. Blood. Brain matter on the wall. I'll get this back to the lab. Any casings, Horatio?"

Horatio scanned the floor next to where Alexx processed the body. "I don't see one."

"Nine millimeter. There would have been a casing. I wonder whether our killer knew to take it with him."

* * *

><p>It was after midnight when Rick turned out the light and tucked the blue blanket around his chin. Between reports, investigations and field work, he was exhausted. He ignored the booming thunder and the rain that pounded against his window.<p>

_Scratch! Scratch! Scrape!_

He groaned in anger. That gray field mouse was foraging in the walls again. "Knock it off!" he yelled at the wall, his eyes closed. He put the pillow over his head and turned over, hoping the noise would go away. He had set traps, but nothing seemed to work. That mouse just kept coming back, waking him up, annoying him.

_Scratch! Scratch!_

With a grunt, Rick picked up his black shoe and hurled it at the wall. It landed with a THUD! and fell to the floor.

Silence.

He sighed. "I'm gonna kill you one of these days" he snarled as he turned toward the other wall, putting the pillow over his head again. "Call an exterminator. Something!"

Rick had been asleep maybe half an hour when something else woke him up with a start.

"_Rowr!" Scratch! Scratch! Scratch!_

He clenched his teeth and, with his hand, groped the floor for something else to throw at the wall.

_Scratch! "Rowr!"_

This was coming from the back door, he thought. "What the hell…. Shut up!"

_Scratch! Scratch! Scratch! "Rowr!"_

A cat? At his back door?

Sleepily he sat up and sleepily made his way to the back door.

The little white cat looked up at him half hopefully and half expectantly. He had sad blue eyes that almost expected Rick to feed him. His white fur was soaked. He looked like he'd been thrown into a puddle, his white fur splashed with mud.

_Rowr?_

Rick stared at the little visitor for a few seconds. Those little blue eyes looked so pathetic, so hungry, so desperate. He didn't have a collar. The rain was still coming down.

The IAB agent held his hand over his neck and sighed tiredly. Just as he was about to close his door and find some leftover chicken or lunchmeat, his new little guest darted into the house, leaving muddy paw prints along his carpet.

"Hey!" Rick tried to run after the cat to put him back out, but he was just too fast. The brown paw prints on his beige carpet were the only sign that anything had been there.

Rick cursed under his breath and proceeded to tear the house apart, looking under cabinets and tables, getting on his knees and peeking under his couch.

"Get out here! Where'd you go?"

Still on his hands and knees, Rick sighed and cursed under his breath. It had been another one of those days. He was exhausted, and he had to get up at five and do it all over again. Sitting back on his heels, he listened for the slightest little sound.

Just the thunder and that mouse scratching around in the wall.

In sheer frustration he sighed. "Fine! Go ahead and starve!" he yelled out. "The second I find you you're back out in the rain!"

That mouse scratched in the wall again while the thunder cracked.

Rick looked up at the ceiling of his house. He wasn't the cold, heartless human everybody at the crime lab made him out to be. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out some roast beef slices, laying them one by one on a saucer he laid on the kitchen floor. He then filled a bowl with water and laid it next to the little roast beef platter.

"Here! When I find you, you're going right back out!" he called. He then yawned and crawled back into his bed, turning out the light. Normally a strange presence would have kept him awake, but he was too tired.

_Scratch! Scratch! Scratch!_

He groaned in frustration and put the pillow over his head again. "And while you're at it, kill that mouse!"

Sheer exhaustion won out. Pillow over his head, Rick lay on his stomach and was finally snoring within minutes.


	2. King of His Castle

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2—King of His Castle<strong>

Rick had been in a deep sleep all night, completely shutting out everything that had happened hours before. Now his sleep was fitful. He was dreaming, and in on his skin he felt something like wet sandpaper on his unshaven chin.

_Scrape! Scrape! Scrape! _

He smiled. "Cut it out, Yelina."

_Scrape! Scrape! Scrape! _

Now there was something cold and wet whistling in his ear, tickling him ever so gently. He snorted and squirmed. "Yelina, stop it!" Reflexively he reached up and slapped his ear. "Lemme sleep!"

Finally opened his bloodshot eyes and blinked in the faint green glow of his clock radio, yawning and grunting.

"What the—"

A dark, furry shadow stood over him, looming over him, trying to get that last little taste of bacon cheeseburger that was still on his lips. Those blue eyes glowed just inches away from his face now.

Rick sat up with a start. Everything came back to him.

He reached behind him and clicked on his light. There was his new little mud-splashed visitor, casually licking his paws. With muddy pawprints on his sheets.

With one arm he reached forward and snatched the cat up by the midsection, its little white paws dangling in the air. "Okay, now you're going out!" He glanced at the brown smudges next to his pillow. "Look at this! You're out of here!"

As he stood up, something else next to his pillow caught his attention. He put the cat down on the floor and stared.

There lay the gray field mouse that had been keeping him awake, chewing up his wall. Lying dead on its side. Its stomach had been ripped out. Rick knew that cats would leave their kills as gifts to their masters. He glanced at the dead mouse and back at those hopeful blue eyes.

Those blue eyes looked up at him expectantly.

_Rowr?_

The tired IAB agent gathered himself and rubbed his whiskers, wiping off where the cat had licked him. "I guess I owe you one, huh? Fine. I'll feed you, and then I'm gonna find out who you belong to." With two fingers he picked up his new prize by the tail, sneering at it. "Couldn't you at least eat this thing? You didn't have to leave it in my bed!"

As he opened the door and threw the mangled mouse outside, the cat sat on the linoleum, those hopeful blue eyes fixed on his. He glanced out the back door and then at those blue eyes.

"Go get it!" he ordered, pointing out the back door.

_Rowr?_

It had occurred to Rick to reach down, scoop this cat up, and toss him out behind the mouse. But there was just something wrong. Those beautiful little blue eyes just seemed to study him, not unlike the CSI's and lab techs would study cases. This cat seemed to want to know him. Rick was used to being in control, especially in his own house, and this wasn't sitting well with him.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

He glanced at the saucers he'd put down the night before. They were as clean as though nothing had been in them.

"Guess you were pretty hungry."

_Rowr?_

As Rick tiredly reached for the refrigerator door, his new houseguest stood up on all fours and paced side to side impatiently.

"I guess you know what refrigerators are for. Guess I can give you more lunch meat. I never have time to make a sandwich anyway."

No sooner had he peeled apart more roast beef slices and laid them on the saucer than the white cat had snatched up a whole slice in its teeth. Those sad blue eyes were now blazing like the mighty hunter it was. The cat glanced around and tore the roast beef to shreds. As Rick watched his new little houseguest mutilate its latest kill, he figured he could get a shower, get ready for work, and then see about finding the cat's owner. Hopefully it had an electronic chip or something.

Rick finally had a chance to study this cat that was turning his house upside down. It looked to be in good health. In fact, under the mud splash and the sad eyes, it seemed robust. Rather fat, in fact.

"You sure are hungry" was all Rick could say while the cat furiously devoured his breakfast and then looked up at him hopefully for more.

"What! You want more?"

_Ayr?_

With a sigh the IAB agent opened the refrigerator and pulled out the rest of his roast beef. In order to be sure the cat wouldn't escape again, Rick scooped him up and then dumped both cat and roast beef into the laundry room, closing the door, where he could hear his lunchmeat being slaughtered.

"How can a cat that's so fat be so hungry all the time?"

* * *

><p>Dan Cooper furrowed his eyebrows at the box of CD's Calleigh dropped on the desk. He thumbed through them, noticing how many of them were blank. "This is gonna take forever!"<p>

Calleigh gave him a tight smile. "Give you something to do besides play Solitaire all day, Coop" she quipped.

He sniffed. "Yeah, right! Been working with Tyler since that hacker attack two days ago!"

"How's it coming along?"

"Got most of it up and running. Tyler threw up a firewall when it started, but I don't think we stopped it completely. Still working on tracking it down." He raised his hands at the cardboard box. "I'm looking at about ten hours here!"

Calleigh nodded. "So you better get started."

"DuQuesne!" a voice barked from the doorway of the computer lab.

Calleigh looked up to see Rick Stetler watching her expectantly. "What is it, Rick?"

Rick held up the brown folder. "My office! Now!"

It was never a good thing to be called into Rick Stetler's office. Still, she couldn't help but notice the white hairs on the elbow of his jacket. "When did you get a cat, Rick?"

He didn't answer as he laid printouts on the table one by one. She recognized them right away. Official police reports, complaints to the city.

She looked at him in shock. "What is this?"

Rick put his hands together and leaned forward, glancing between her and the paperwork. "Why don't you tell me?" He pointed to one official-looking piece of paper. "We got a call from the management at a club called Prissy's. They gave a sworn statement that you went in there the night of the fifteenth. You allegedly badged the bouncer to get in without paying and then ran up a bar tab."

Calleigh shook her head. "Prissy's? I've never been there!"

"Really?" He then laid out another piece of paper. "This is the receipt from the bar tab the night of the fifteenth." With his pen he pointed to a highlighted number. "This is your name. That's your credit card number."

"That's not my credit card number, Rick! I've never had a Master Card!"

"Then whose is it?"

"I don't know."

"Well I suggest you check your credit records. If there's been any illegal activity, then you need to put out a fraud alert. Management swears it was you. Blonde hair, badge, everything."

She sighed. "First of all, Rick, you wouldn't catch me dead in a place like Prissy's! That place is a meat market!"

Rick never flinched. "The A/V lab will be running the surveillance footage from the club as soon as the system is back up and running. But as it stands now, you're being charged with allegedly abusing police authority. Now do I need to explain procedure to you?"

"No!"

"Good. Effective immediately you're on modified duty pending the outcome of the investigation." With that Rick collected the papers and closed the brown folder.

Calleigh had her head down. "It wasn't me, Rick!"

He got up from the table. "Follow procedure, Calleigh. Report to HR. I'm informing them that you're transferred to desk duty effective immediately."


	3. The Best Laid Plans

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: If this chapter reminds you of the shower scene in Psycho, then I did my job. Enjoy. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3—The Best Laid Plans<strong>

Dan Cooper typed and clicked, bringing up one screen after another on the lab's main monitor. Calleigh stood behind him while Ryan sat next to him and looked on, touching his chin in thought.

"Hope you're happy" Dan Cooper muttered. "I pulled a double trying to crack this guy's code."

"I'll buy you some eyedrops" Calleigh shot back. "So everything's encoded?"

"Every hacker does it. Gotta cover your tracks."

"But what about legal hackers?" Ryan wanted to know. "I mean, don't corporations and the Feds hire these guys to test their security codes?"

"Doesn't matter. "There's stuff these guys do to hack into computer systems that they don't want everybody knowing. They even have a style of hacking, but you really can't copyright that. Hackers'll steal each other's secrets, so they even hide their identities. So you get this guy calling himself Serial Velocity." The A/V tech smiled a little. "Besides, it's kind of like gaming. It sounds cool to have an online name. In fact it is a game. They'll hack into anything, just to see if they can do it." He watched the binary codes and letters run down the screens. Letters and numbers ran down the black screen. "Surprised this guy was living in that little apartment. Know how much you can get for this kind of info?"

"What's that?" Calleigh wanted to know.

"This is the security code for AMVW."

"AMVW" Calleigh thought aloud. "They're a security company here in Miami."

"Yep."

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows. "It was on the news. Didn't they just land a big contract with the Air Force? Extra security for shipments of weapons into Afghanistan?"

Dan Cooper nodded. "Right here. Operations, how many private security forces, who's guarding who. Even their personal info. Names, addresses, Social Security numbers, even bank account info. You can blackmail a security guard, take him out if you know his movements or where his family lives. Worth millions to a terrorist organization."

"Well it was obviously worth Walter Mullinax's life" Calleigh said. "Anything about my information?"

Dan Cooper clicked keys again and highlighted a black screen. "Only been through half the CD's so far. Most of it's just binary codes to corporate trade secrets, patents, stuff that any hacker can get out there." He shook his head. "Other than AMVW, I can't imagine somebody would want that stuff bad enough to kill him."

Ryan shook his head. "Any hacker can get in there and steal our whole lives. Scary."

"Names? Social Security Numbers? Credit cards? Kindergarten stuff for these guys. Serial Velocity was the one who hacked our computer system. Couldn't find an IP address. He was too smart not to cover that up. This guy has letters, numbers, anagrams that all mean something." He highlighted a series of numbers. "I was able to figure out these numbers."

Ryan squinted at the screen. "Twenty. Eleven. Twenty-three. Eleven. Yeah, okay."

"Take away seven from each one of those numbers."

"Thirteen. Four. Sixteen. Four."

Dan Cooper nodded at them. "Now what letters of the alphabet are those?"

"MDPD" Calleigh said. "Miami-Dade Police?"

"Yep. Take a look at what I found. Like I said, Tyler threw up a firewall, but it looks like he got some stuff. He can sell somebody's personal info, like Calleigh's Social Security number, her driver's license number, even her badge number."

"I've gotta find that information. Then we gotta find out who's impersonating me" Calleigh insisted. "So far all she's done is run up a bar tab, but who knows what else she's capable of? Stetler's got me on desk duty.

Dan Cooper circled the screen with his finger. "This was all I could find. Don't know what the hell he's talking about."

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows. "MDPD Blizzard's ear."

Ryan and Calleigh looked at each other.

"Blizzard's ear. Is that a place?" Ryan asked. "Maybe a club?"

Dan Cooper shrugged. "I couldn't even find a hacker by the name of Blizzard."

Ryan stood up with a resolve. "We gotta find out who or what this Blizzard is. Something tells me Blizzard's ear has some info."

"Yeah, like my ID" Calleigh said. "And something worth dying for."

* * *

><p>After nearly two days, Rick wasn't any closer to finding out who owned this little white cat. He'd had no time to talk to Animal Control. He put down leftovers and water in the kitchen. He let it out to do its business, but it always seemed to come back, scratching on the door, almost like it had always lived here.<p>

Rick was home a little early this evening. He could feel his blood pressure rise as his eyes followed the muddy pawprints from the back door, all the way through his living room to his bedroom, where he knew his sheets were still smeared with mud and maybe even mouse guts.

_Rowr?_

The white cat sat down, those hopeful little blue eyes on him again.

"What do you want from me? I fed you."

His little tongue out, the cat turned left and right, trying to reach that muddy splash on his back.

Rick scowled at him. "You're filthy."

_Rowr?_

"You're getting a bath before you mess up my house any more."

Those eyes just stayed fixed on him. _Rowr?_

As he undid his tie and his shirt cuffs, Rick glanced around, trying to think of the safest way to do this. He knew how much cats hated water. As he put his shirt on a hanger, he looked at his bathtub while the cat came up and sniffed his shoes. Maybe he could strip down, take the cat in there, rinse him off as quickly as possible, and then towel him off. He scooped up his muddy little houseguest and kept him at arm's length.

"Come on. You're coming with me."

The cat watched him, probably hoping for more food as he turned on the shower and laid out plenty of towels. The shampoo ought to do it, he thought, as he placed it within reach, cap open, all the better to do this quickly. He then removed the rest of his clothes and stuck his hand under the shower stream one more time.

"That should be good. Come on."

Quickly Rick scooped up the cat so its stomach rested on his forearm as he stood under the shower stream. His little white paws dangled as he looked around. Quickly Rick picked up the shampoo, determined to do this as quickly and painlessly as possible.

No sooner had the warm water hit the cat's back than his blue eyes widened and his head jerked up. For a second he froze. But then his paws flew out to all sides, claws out, grabbing for anything. He whipped around and dug his claws into Rick's chest, desperate to crawl out of there. In a second Rick dropped his shampoo bottle and yelped in pain and panic.

"Ow! Hey!"

The cat now dug his hind feet into Rick's skin, getting claws tangled into his chest hair, sending both IAB agent and cat into a wet, howling, scrambling panic. Rick stumbled back against the wall, trying desperately to pry the wet fur off his chest, to no avail.

"Ow! Let go! Cut it out!"

Rick screamed as he felt chest hair being ripped out and skin being clawed. Shower water now flew in all directions while Rick screamed in pain and a wet cat howled in terror. Instinctively he dropped to his knees to protect his privates from those pummeling hind claws that dug into his ribs while the cat twisted and squirmed, trying to get free. Rick screamed in pain now, just trying to pry the wet, clawing fur off of him.

The cat finally managed to free itself of his chest hair and jump to the lip of the bathtub, slipping and sliding, howling at the bathroom door, finally prying it open, and disappearing, leaving a trail of mud and water.

Weak from his ordeal, Rick Stetler leaned back against the wall, one hand on the tub, the other clutching the shower curtain. He reached forward, grabbing the curtain, tearing it off the hooks as he collapsed over the tub's edge.

Dazed and bleeding, he leaned over the lip of the tub. Shampoo leaked from the bottle. Blood from his wounds slowly ran down the drain. He rested his face on the floor.

"I'm gonna kill that cat!"


	4. Blood Drops

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4—Blood Drops<strong>

The woman was in her early thirties. She had a fair complexion and wavy brown hair that cascaded down her back. She wore faded jeans and a simple blue blouse. Fear and sadness had taken its toll on her otherwise beautiful face. She crept up to the glass with Horatio, her heart quaking, her arms folded across her chest.

"Miss Mullinax, take all the time you need, but we're going to need you to identify the body. We need you to verify whether this is your brother. Will you be all right?"

She nodded, her eyes closed, her head still down.

Alexx stood expectantly by the glass. When Horatio and the woman appeared, she knew exactly what to do. Like so many times before, she pulled out the drawer and gingerly lifted the white sheet off the man's sleeping face. For a moment the woman stood frozen, but then she turned her head and put her hand over her face, nodding. She watched Horatio put a comforting hand on her shoulder, just like he did all those other times. Alexx couldn't hear what they were saying, but after so many positive identifications, she didn't need to. She dutifully covered up Walter Mullinax's face again.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry for your loss" he said softly. "Now I need you to tell me. When was the last time you spoke with your brother?"

Theresa Mullinax sobbed and wiped her eyes with a Kleenex. "Couple of months ago. We both moved here to find work, but then Walt got laid off from the IT firm when they sent his job to Costa Rica. I didn't really hear much from him after that."

"He didn't tell you what he was doing?"

She shook her head sadly, her arms across her chest. "All he would tell me was that he was busy. I just assumed he'd found another job."

Horatio dipped his head. "Did you know that he'd been involved in computer hacking?"

"No. I called him a couple of times, but it seemed like he didn't really want to talk to me. I wonder if he was mad at me." She then paused. "Do you know what happened to Blizzard?"

Horatio furrowed his eyebrows. "Blizzard?"

She nodded. "Blizzard's my cat. I travel a lot, and Walt took him in as a favor to me. I've been meaning to go get her, but Walt was always too busy." She blew her nose and wiped her eyes again. "I just hope she's all right."

"Ma'am, we'll find her."

Rick Stetler normally had that boss-man look when he strode into the crime lab. He would be smartly dressed with that badge visible. But this morning he was just a little hunched over, his shoulders forward so his shirt didn't stick to those scratches. He didn't bother with a coat and tie this morning, just leaving his shirt unbuttoned. The pain and exhaustion from cleaning up last night's bathroom disaster was evident in his eyes. It had occurred to him to ask one of the female CSI's or techs for some makeup to cover the scratches on his neck and chest. He had slathered the last of his ointment on the pink jagged lines on his neck, chest and arms. There were too many scratches for him to use Bandaids, and they would get stuck in his chest hair anyway, causing yet more pain. He hoped nobody would notice. His mind was made up now. He would call Animal Control and get that cat out of his life just as soon as he spoke to Horatio.

Eric Delko was wrist-deep in a DNA sample when Rick stepped in and peered around. For a moment the CSI looked at the jagged pink lines on his neck. He then snorted.

The IAB agent stared daggers at him. "The hell's so funny, Delko?"

"Wow! New girlfriend likes the rough stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, laugh it up!" he snarled, trying to cover the pink scars with his hand. "Where's Horatio?"

"Hacker case. Talking to the vic's sister."

Tired hand over his scarred throat, Rick shot him an angry glare as he walked out.

"Can I have her phone number?"

Rick didn't answer as he ambled out to the glass where Horatio and Theresa Mullinax stood. He stopped at a distance and gave him that _Get-out-her_e! look.

"Excuse me, Miss Mullinax." Horatio put one finger up to her and stepped out, leaving her with the female officer.

"I'm on a case, Rick. What is it that couldn't wait?" He couldn't help but notice the scratches on his neck and jaw.

"Horatio, I walked into my office to find five more cases of officers and CSI's that had their identities stolen. I need to know what's going on." He pointed down the hallway. "I can't put every one of those officer on modified duty!"

"Yes, I know" Horatio said, his hands together. "Calleigh DuQuesne apparently has someone impersonating her." His blue eyes followed the cat scratches. "What happened?"

Rick scowled and covered his neck again. "I cut myself shaving! Look, could we just talk about the matter at hand?"

Horatio smiled and looked down. But not far from the jagged pink lines on Rick's neck, Horatio noticed some white hairs on his blue-striped collar. Cat fur?

_Have you seen Blizzard? Blizzard's my white cat._

"Rick, when did you get a white cat?"

He smirked. "I don't own a cat. One just started coming around my back door a couple of days ago. I'm calling Animal Control to get it out of there and find the owner."

"Is it a white one?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Horatio disappeared into the room and came back out with a picture. "Is this the one?"

The IAB agent turned his head and studied the picture. "Yeah! Didn't have a collar."

"Where is it?"

"Back at my house."

"We have to go get it. That cat belongs to a vic and might even be a material witness."

* * *

><p>Horatio and Rick stepped out of the Hummer. As they walked up the cracked sidewalk, Rick fumbled through his waist pocket for his keys. But as he looked up again, something caught his attention. Horatio stood beside him and put his hand up. Both officers knew what had happened.<p>

His burgundy door was open about three inches. The doorknob was sagging as though someone had pried it.

"Call for backup! I'm going in!" Gun at the ready, Horatio pushed open the door.

"Miami-Dade Police!"

He looked and listened. Silence.

Rick didn't carry a firearm. He knew to stay outside, according to procedure. He listened and waited for Horatio to go room by room as patrol cars silently pulled up to the curb, lights flashing. Uniformed officers stepped out, guns drawn, eyes on the front door.

Room by room Horatio crept around corners, his senses on high alert. He froze, his finger in the trigger well of his weapon when he thought he'd heard a growling sound under the sofa. Satisfied that everything else was clear, he slowly lowered his weapon and peered under the couch.

Looking back at him were wide, angry blue eyes. That was Blizzard all right. Her pink ears were flat against her head, and she crouched, looking like she'd swat him.

He bent down. "You must be Blizzard" he said in a soothing voice, holding his hand out slowly. "Come on out. I'm not gonna hurt you."

The blue eyes probed him, checking him from head to toes. After several seconds Blizzard crept out, still low to the ground, and sniffed his hand.

Blizzard looked like any normal white cat. Her fur was rumpled, like she had just faced down an enemy. Now as she sniffed the Lieutenant's finger and wrist, she stood up cautiously.

Her mouth and nose were red, almost like a clown mouth. She licked her lips, jerking her head sideways, trying to get it off.

"Come here, Blizzard."

The cat decided she could trust him. Horatio eased forward and gently put his hands behind her head and under her jaw, pulling her lip open with his thumb. The redness in the fur around her mouth and in her teeth.

"That's blood in your mouth, and I don't think it's yours. I'm gonna have to take you back to the lab and process you."

A thousand scenarios went through Rick's head as he waited on his front step, hearing nothing. What happened in his house? Was anything gone? Maybe silence was good.

Horatio finally peeked his head out the front door, careful not to touch anything. "It's clear, Gentlemen. Rick, I need you to come inside with me."

Rick knew not to touch the door, walking in behind Horatio, according to procedure. "What happened? What's that on her mouth?"

Horatio nodded. "I think we found Blizzard. Looks like she might have scared someone off."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. "She?"

"Vic's sister claims to be the original owner. Said Blizzard's a female. We're gonna have to take her back to the lab. Anything out of place in here?"

Rick glanced around his house. Everything was just like he'd left it this morning. "Nothing missing."

"Rick, somebody wants Blizzard besides the owner. And we're gonna find out why."


	5. Who Are You?

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5—Who Are You?<strong>

Blizzard hunched her back and scrambled her white paws, her claws scraping loudly on the metal table. She shifted her shoulders and jerked her head up and down. Delko held her from behind and tried to move with her, his gloved hands around her white girth. "It's okay. Hold still. Just need to find out who you sank those teeth into." He raised her up on her hind legs. She responded by trying to back out from his grip, squirming more violently each time, finally holding her head up and meowing in frustration. "Better hurry up, Wolfe. Don't think she likes us very much."

With his gloved hands Ryan flipped open the swab container and tried to aim for the cat's bloody mouth, moving it up and down as Blizzard huffed and then squirmed again.

"Haven't had to handle live evidence for a while. Can you hold her lip up for a second? I gotta do two swabs. One for the blood inside her mouth and one for the outside. DNA comparison."

"Whoever she bit was a bleeder."

Ryan sniffed as he kept trying to aim for the cat's mouth. "That much blood? She must've hit a vein. Okay, open her mouth."

No sooner had Delko eased his finger under her blood-soaked lip than she jerked her head again, turning and opening her mouth around Delko's hand like she might bite him too. Reflexively he pulled his finger back and released her. She sat on the metal table and growled, her pink ears laid back at the two CSI's.

"She's not gonna cooperate" Ryan finally said. "Gonna have to call Animal Control so we can process her."

Rick Stetler ambled into the lab. He nodded at Blizzard. "How's it coming, Gentlemen?"

It didn't escape Ryan's and Eric's attention that Blizzard quickly calmed down and fixed her eyes on Rick.

"What's wrong with her?" he wanted to know.

In surprise Delko looked at Blizzard and then Rick. "She won't let us process her, so we're gonna have to call Animal Control. I think she likes you, Stetler."

Ryan held the box of latex gloves in front of the IAB agent. "Sergeant Stetler, she's responding to you. Mind holding her so we can process her?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"She won't hold still for anybody but you. It could take hours for somebody to get here from Animal Control. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can find out who broke into your house and who killed Walter Mullinax."

Rick didn't relish the idea of helping handle evidence, but this was personal, so he snapped on the latex gloves and stood behind the cat. In contrast to before, she now sat calmly on the table, her blue eyes looking straight up at him.

"Just hold her and show her teeth" Ryan instructed. "I'll swab her as fast as I can."

Without realizing what he was doing, the IAB agent held his head down to her ear, almost as if to soothe her. "Come on, Blizzard. Hold still. Nobody's gonna hurt you." He slipped his arm under her girth and held up her lip with one finger. She tilted her head and held perfectly still while Ryan flicked a swab over her reddened teeth and then along the fur on her lip. Both CSI's looked at Rick in surprise.

"What?"

Delko looked at Rick and cat with a boyish grin. "Just never seen anybody act nice around you."

Rick looked down at the cat he was holding in his arms. She now had her eyes closed, almost basking in his presence. It only then occurred to him that he was forming a bond with this cat.

Ryan dripped some solution onto the swabs and watched for the color. He nodded. "Yep. Human. Gonna get these off to Valera."

"I'll put out the word and see if anybody came in with a cat bite this morning. As much blood as that was, guy probably had to go to the hospital."

Calleigh stepped into the lab carrying some brown evidence envelopes. She stopped when she saw Rick.

"You're not supposed to be working any cases, Calleigh" he reminded her sharply.

She leveled her eyes at him. "I didn't forget, Rick. Just thought Delko and Ryan might want some evidence that I collected before that. Might even help me get off desk duty that much sooner!" She handed packets to Delko while still glaring at him.

"What are these?" Delko wanted to know.

"That round I pulled out of the wall in the Mullinax shooting?" She never took her eyes off the IAB agent. "Looks like Stetler's gonna have his work cut out for him."

Rick peeled off the latex gloves, still under her icy glare. "And you're saying this because?"

"Nothing in IBIS Main, so I ran it against some control samples. Match to a backup weapon that an Officer James O'Brien reported stolen eighteen months ago. Patrol."

Rick stared at the wall in thought while Blizzard bumped his sleeve to try to get his attention. "You call him in?"

"Already took the liberty. You might also like to know that Tyler ran the face recognition software against those surveillance photos at Prissy's. Bringing her in now." She then glanced at Rick, believing that letting her back out into the field was not exactly on his list of priorities. "Let me know when you're ready to restore me to duty." With that she left.

Horatio studied the girl through the glass as Calleigh walked up to him. "She does look a lot like you."

* * *

><p>It was almost like staring at herself. The girl had straight honey-blonde hair, a fair complexion and green eyes, but much younger. She looked down at the metal table while kneading her fingers nervously. She was clearly not used to being in a police station.<p>

"Name's Bridgette Hambry, alias Calleigh DuQuesne. Twenty years old. Tyler got a positive ID off her school records. Parents live in Port Arthur, Texas. She goes to SFU. No priors of any kind here or in Texas."

Horatio nodded sadly. He hated cases like this. "Until now."

"You have that badge she used at Prissy's?"

Horatio produced a silver badge that he'd kept in an evidence bag. "It was in her purse."

Calleigh studied it for a moment. "Definitely not a real badge."

"No, but it'll fool Security at Prissy's."

"Or anywhere else."

"They don't call it the 'brass pass' for nothing. Calleigh, I'm asking Delko to run that badge number. Have someone get back to me the second you find out something."

Horatio and Calleigh looked through the window again.

This was personal for Calleigh, but somehow she found it hard to be mad at this girl. "She thought she was just having a little fun."

"Some very dangerous fun" Horatio added.

* * *

><p>The girl's green eyes glanced between Horatio and the table as he laid out her identification one by one. A fake Florida driver's license. A J C Penney credit card. A Miami Savings and Trust debit card. All bore Calleigh's name and Bridgette Hambry's likeness.<p>

"Bridgette Hambry, alias Calleigh DuQuesne. How did you get a police officer's identification?"

Her eyes just glanced between Horatio and the cards again.

Horatio faced her more fully now. "Miss Hambry, we have you on three counts of identity theft and three counts of obtaining property under false pretenses. Then there's impersonating a police officer, which is a second degree felony in the state of Florida. You're looking at twenty-five to life, so you better start talking."

The girl swallowed. "I-I just…. I thought it would be cool. Being a police officer and all. I could get in anywhere I wanted."

"What you did was not only unfair to the real Calleigh DuQuesne, it was dangerous! We have you on surveillance tape running up a bar tab at Prissy's while using a fake badge! Do you know what that does to the public's trust in the police?"

The girl's face was pale now, and she covered her face, crying. She shook her head. "I-I'm sorry" she sobbed.

"I need to know who sold you Officer DuQuesne's information! I also need to know where you got the badge!"

She wiped her eyes and looked out the window, trembling. "His name was Jimmy O'Brien."

"Where can I find Jimmy O'Brien?"

The Lieutenant was distracted by a tapping on the glass. "I'll be right back!"

Calleigh looked at him with urgent eyes. "You told me to let you know the second I knew something about that badge number?"

"Yes?"

"Belonged to Officer James O'Brien."

"I see."

She produced a printout. "The badge number matches O'Brien. He was killed in a hang gliding accident. Right about the time his backup firearm was reported stolen."

A chill ran through Horatio. "Calleigh. If James O'Brien has been dead, then who's the patrol officer?"

"I don't know."

"We better find out, and now. That makes two fake police officers."


	6. Assistant IAB

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Sorry I haven't thanked you for your reviews as I try to do. Got a friend in the hospital whom I'm going to visit. I had just enough time to post the next chapter. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6—Assistant IAB<strong>

Delko stepped into the lab carrying a small white box and a cage. "Just talked to Animal Control. They're backed up. Said it's gonna be hours before they can put her in protective custody, but they left us a cage and a scanner, just in case Blizzard does have a chip. Got an animal expert coming in to look at her. H thinks she might have seen something at the crime scene. Sides, there's that stuff Coop found on Walter Mullinax's computer about 'MDPD Blizzard's ear.'"

Ryan bent down over the wary white cat while Rick Stetler stood by. "Well, guess this'll be a good time to find out. Let me just look in those ears, Blizzard." He reached down to touch her pink ears when she crouched and growled, blue eyes blazing at him. He stepped back. He shook his head. "Sergeant Stetler, guess we're gonna need your help again." He motioned toward the box of gloves.

It gave Rick some satisfaction that Blizzard would let only him touch her or hold her as he snapped on another pair of gloves and stood behind the cat.

"Just hold her front legs" Ryan directed.

"I know what to do!" he snapped. "I haven't been IAB all my life!" Firmly he held his hands over the cat's little shoulders. "It's okay, Blizzard." She sat still on the metal table and looked up at him, almost as though waiting for his instructions.

Ryan clicked on his flashlight and looked over both of Blizzard's pinkish ears. He then folded them back and shone the light.

"Don't see anything unusual. No tattoos. Wait a second. I see kind of a red spot. Could be an injection site." He then kneaded her left ear with his thumb and forefinger. "It does feel like she's got a lump in here or something. If this guy did put a microchip in her ear, I'm surprised, because it usually goes between the shoulder blades."

"Those things are about the size of a grain of rice, aren't they?" Delko asked.

"Yeah, so they're pretty big to fit into a cat's ear. Dog's ear, maybe. If this is a chip, it's pretty small." He clicked on his flashlight again and looked through the fur and the pink veins in her ear. She still held still. "Yeah. Feels almost like a disk, actually. Want to get some pictures of this, Delko?"

Delko snapped pictures while Ryan held a measuring stick on Blizzard's folded pink ear. She patiently held her head still.

Ryan then produced a white handheld box that looked like a calculator and ran it over the cat's pinkish ears. "This is the microchip scanner Animal Control let us borrow. If this is a HomeAgain chip or something, it should show the name and phone number of the owner."

No sounds. No reading. Ryan looked at it while Delko looked on. "Hmm. Nothing. Sergeant Stetler, mind putting your girlfriend in the cage so we can keep her here till someone can sign for her and pick her up?"

"What does she need to go into PC for?" Rick wanted to know.

"H wants to get a behavioral specialist to look at her."

"Yeah, I know. Her reaction might be admissible evidence in court." As Rick peeled off the latex gloves again, he looked into those hopeful, longing blue eyes again. "Actually, I got some paperwork. I'll keep her with me."

Delko shrugged. "Yeah. Guess just sign the Chain of Custody form."

Rick scrawled his signature on the form and nudged Blizzard head first into the carrier. "You know where to reach me."

* * *

><p>Rick had set the cage on the desk next to him, just inches away from where he lay the folders and papers. Blizzard watched patiently through the bars while he thumbed through papers and cases that had just come in. A smile then crossed his face. He nodded approvingly.<p>

"How about this? Preliminary investigation of Lieutenant Horatio Caine. I think this is gonna be a good day."

While Rick flipped through notes and wrote summaries on a pad, Blizzard lay patiently on her stomach, her paws perfectly out in front her like an Egyptian Sphinx, her blue eyes following that pen, her ears forward.

Finally Rick put down his pen and studied the little white cat. She looked into his eyes, never moving. He stuck his slender finger through the bars of the carrier. She craned her neck and sniffed his finger, rubbing her face against him. It made him smile. Her fur was so soft. That purring was so relaxing. She just kept rubbing her forehead on his finger, moving her head side to side.

"You're just a regular purr machine" he finally said, smiling a little. He curled his finger and reached in further to scratch behind her ears. She tilted her head forward, leaning up against the bars. "I guess I can let you out for a little while. You promise you won't try to escape?"

Blizzard just kept purring, her eyes closed.

With his fingers Rick unlatched the handle and opened the door. Blizzard sniffed the brown desk as she slowly crept out, sniffing the case file, and leaning forward to sniff into his coffee cup. He snatched it away from her.

"Never put your nose in my coffee!"

Blizzard lay down again, her pinkish-white paws forward, just inches from the case file, her tail gently thumping the desk. Rick studied her again. The mud and the blood had been completely cleaned off her now. She was a soft, beautiful cat. He stroked her middle. For such a chubby cat, she seemed to be hungry all the time, he thought. He looked straight at her and then at the papers in front of him.

"You wouldn't understand. I just can't win with Caine around. He took my promotion, he took my girlfriend…." His lips tightened up and he breathed deeply to dispel the frustration. Blizzard never moved.

"How'd you like to be my assistant? What do you think? Assistant IAB?" With no other humans around to make fun of him, he smiled at the thought. "I haven't even had a partner in years." He leaned his face closed to hers. "Look at this. Says here Caine's being investigated for misappropriation of evidence. Wanna help me nail him? Take him down a few notches?" With the back of his fingers he gently stroked her fur, from her head, down her back. He forgot about the investigation as she purred and leaned into his hand. "Aw, you like that, don't you? How about this?" He scratched her behind her ears. She stood up, leaning her head against his fingers, purring more loudly, her eyes closed.

Blizzard now plopped down and rolled onto her back, front paws up.

Rick found himself leaning over her and rubbing her bulging belly with his palm. "Aw, listen to that little purr motor." He stiffened up when he felt his Blackberry buzz on his belt. He pulled it out of the clip and read the screen.

"I gotta get that." He stood up and slipped on his jacket, looking around. "I guess I can leave you here for a few minutes." With that he left.

In the silence of the locked office, Blizzard stood up and sniffed the pages of the case file. The ink had a tantalizing, almost intoxicating scent. With her paw she scratched on the paper. Finally she bit into the edge of the paper and pulled up, tearing it neatly in two.

Blizzard found out she liked the way the case file tasted.

Her paw still on the file, she pulled more with her teeth, tearing more and more pages, chewing through them, savoring that ink, watching shreds of paper float to the floor. She then came up and sniffed Rick's coffee cup, pawing it. The Styrofoam cup tipped over, sluicing warm coffee across the desk and onto the carpet. Hungry as she was, she crouched down and lapped up the sweet, creamy coffee.

Those hunger pangs were getting the best of her now. The pink pieces of paper seemed to smell and taste the best. She jumped down onto Rick's chair and, holding the end of the tattered paper with her paw, she chewed it, little by little, tipping her head sideways so she could savor it better.

But then the sweetness of the ink and the coffee made her heave. She vomited the paper and the coffee back up over the chair and the floor before trying to eat more.

Rick stepped into the office and stopped. His mouth dropped open as he looked around at the sea of paper that was Horatio's case folder.

A brown folder cover, papers, and his Styrofoam coffee cup covered half the small office, looking more like New Year's Eve confetti.

He threw his hands up in disbelief. "Aw no! I was just…."

Blizzard lay on her back, sampling another piece of paper, rubbing it on her white forehead. She stopped to look up at him.

"What the—. What did you do?"

Slowly she rolled on her back and looked at him. Reality was setting in as he surveyed the damage. That investigation that was due on the Chief's desk this afternoon had to be in a thousand pieces. He picked up the unchewed half of his coffee cup and shook his head, amazed that one little cat could do all this. But then his eyes fell on the seat of his chair.

"You puked up a hairball on my chair!" He turned his face away and clutched his scarred throat to suppress his gag reflex. In all his years as a police officer, Rick Stetler had seen quite a bit. But he still couldn't look at that hairball on his chair.

_Rowr?_

"You're lucky I don't have a firearm!"

Blizzard came up and looked at him hopefully.

"No! Just…" He snatched her up and nudged her back into the carrier, snapping the door shut. In the sea of tattered paper, he noticed that she had left one printout. He picked it up and glanced at it.

"An interim award for Horatio. You could've eaten that!" He threw it down again.

* * *

><p>The man stared at the blinking dot on his monitor. It had been sitting still for quite a while. He clicked keys. The cat was still at the Miami-Dade Police Headquarters. He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how he was gonna get her back. But for now he would just have to wait. Just be patient. But he would get her back.<p> 


	7. NotSoDistant Memories

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7—Not-So-Distant Memories<strong>

Horatio had his head down, in deep thought as he walked through the blue hallway. Ryan met him outside of Trace. "Horatio."

"Mr. Wolfe. Any news on Officer O'Brien?"

Ryan shook his head. "Shift Captain says O'Brien, or whoever the guy is, hasn't shown up for duty in two days. Nobody's answering his phone. Tripp did a welfare check on his apartment. Nothing. Got a BOLO out on him."

"Anything else?"

"Valera ran a DNA on that blood we swabbed around Blizzard's mouth. Came back unknown male." Ryan stepped back into the lab. Horatio followed him to the lighted layout table, his eyes on the switches, wires, chamois cloths, a scalpel, and a syringe. "Are these items you got from Walter Mullinax's apartment?"

"Yeah." With his gloved hand Ryan picked up a black box the size of two quarters. Black and red wires stuck out of the sides like rabbit ears on a television. Horatio's time with the bomb squad told him he'd better take a closer look, so he donned his own gloves and held them to the light.

"GPS tracking devices. You can get these in any electronics store. Missing their chips."

These were the only two we found in the apartment." Ryan took the black top off of one. "Somebody's been using the chips to track…." It then occurred to him. "Hey, Blizzard….." He motioned to his ear. "Delko and I examined her this morning. I felt kind of a lump in the base of her ear. Like somebody might have put something in there. But a cat's ear?"

Horatio looked at one GPS unit and then the other. "Mr. Wolfe, in some of these devices, the chips are small enough that they could fit into a cat's ear. It's possible somebody's got a GPS tracker on that cat." He handed the boxes to Ryan again. "Get those boxes to Tyler or Cooper. They should be able to find where the GPS chips are and who's tracking them. Were you able to find any prints on these?"

"Nothing. Must have worn gloves or wiped them down."

"Where's Blizzard?"

"Stetler's babysitting her while we wait for Animal Control to pick her up."

Horatio opened his cell phone. "I'll talk to Stetler. But I think someone's tracking that cat, and we have to find out why."

The petite woman had long, wavy hair that was tied back into a relaxed ponytail that rested on the back of her blouse. She wore gold-rimmed glasses. She had brown eyes and a stocky build. She looked like someone who could be comfortable getting inside a cat's mind. She looked up at Horatio and shook hands confidently.

"Lieutenant Caine. Dr. Wendy Reese. I understand you have a cat that was part of a crime scene?"

Horatio smiled as he gently shook hands with her. "Ma'am. We did. We have evidence of a white cat that had been living with a Walter Mullinax. Homicide, execution style. When we processed the scene, one of our CSI's found traces of white feline fur at the scene and on the vic. DNA was an exact match to a cat that showed up at another officer's back door that same night. We think the cat might have witnessed something."

Dr. Reese nodded understandingly. "In the State of Florida, the reactions of a companion animal can be considered admissible evidence. Why don't we take a look at the cat?"

Rick Stetler sat tiredly at the metal table in the lab, his head down, his blue paisley tie rumpled. Blizzard looked at him hopefully through the door of the carrier, but Rick wouldn't have any of it. He stood up slowly as the lab door opened.

"Rick. I'd like you to meet Dr. Wendy Reese. She's the veterinarian and animal behavior specialist. Did you bring Blizzard?"

The IAB agent grunted as he turned the carrier to face the lady. Blizzard glanced up for a moment and then went back to casually washing her forepaws. "Right here!"

The doctor smiled as she looked down at the carrier. "Well, hello…."

"Blizzard!" Rick snorted. "She trashed my office!"

Dr. Reese raised her eyebrows as she opened the carrier and gently pulled out the white cat. "Well, let's take a look at you, Blizzard. What did she destroy?"

The IAB agent smoothed his rumpled tie and tightened his lips. It now occurred to him that maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to let Horatio know that a cat destroyed Rick Stetler's office. Somebody might use it against him later. "Nothing, really. She just chewed up my coffee cup."

The veterinarian raised her eyebrows and then reached in, taking Blizzard out slowly and holding her against her blouse. She and Blizzard seemed to be completely comfortable with one another. "So your name is Blizzard? What a beautiful white cat." She then set the cat down on the table and glanced into her eyes and ears. "She looks pretty healthy. Nice, pink color in her ears. Her hearing seems fine. About seventy percent of blue-eyed white cats are deaf, but she's following my cues. Eyes are clear. No cataracts or scratched cornea that I usually see in ferals. She's definitely been someone's pet. Let's have a look at those teeth, shall we?" Dr. Reese gently raised the cat's lip while bracing her head. "Teeth and gums look pretty healthy." With her hands she then kneaded the cat's ribs. "She's been well fed."

Rick sniffed. "She's well fed, all right. That cat put away two packages of lunch meat."

The cat closed her eyes and gently swayed her white tail in the air, enjoying having her ribs massaged. But then Dr. Reese put one hand on Blizzard's back and another on her large abdomen and kneaded it with her fingers. She lowered her head. "Hmm."

"What is it, Ma'am?" Horatio wanted to know.

She hesitated. "I'd have to take Blizzard back to my lab and give her a full physical and psychological exam. Sergeant Stetler I understand she's been with you for a couple of days?"

"Yeah. She also killed a mouse and put it in my bed."

Dr. Reese smiled and looked down at Blizzard. "Well, somebody was just showing her respect for you."

"What about her ears, Dr. Reese?" Horatio wanted to know. "Can you find any evidence of a chip?"

With her fingers, the veterinarian felt Blizzard's left ear. The cat waited patiently. "I can't imagine a vet putting an implant in a cat's ear. But yeah, there does seem to be a lump of some kind in here. Feels like it could be. I'll do an MRI on her."

"One of our CSI's found an injection site inside her ear."

"Well, let's see." Clicking on her black penlight, she looked into Blizzard's left ear. "You're right. Somebody knew what they were doing, too. Either way I'll need to give her a full workup to determine whether she can be considered a credible witness. That's very tricky business."

"Now could we show her crime scene photos? Mugshots?" Rick wanted to know.

Dr. Reese smiled at his naivety. "Cats can't see two-dimensional images. Also, sight is probably the least used of their senses." She tipped her head up. "No, cats are more likely to remember voices, scents…. Those are the two most important. When I'm considering an animal as a witness, I'll gauge their reaction to a voice, a scent, a particular sound. Blizzard is obviously a companion animal. If she bonded to Walter Mullinax, then she could pick up on his thoughts and feelings. It's well documented that when their owners feel fear, pets feel fear as well. Now Sergeant Stetler, did you say that Blizzard showed up at your door that night?"

Rick began to forget his indignance and sat forward to remember. "Yeah. I live down the street from the crime scene. I actually stopped by to do an annual evaluation of the CSI's on the job. Blizzard came scratching at my door that night. When I opened the door, she ran into my house and hid under something."

Dr. Reese nodded. "It's likely Blizzard was traumatized by her owner's murder. She recognized Sergeant Stetler's scent, and, since he lives just a few doors down, Blizzard ran to the only thing in the neighborhood that was familiar to her. How has Blizzard been acting around you, Sergeant Stetler?"

"Like I can't get rid of her! She follows me around. Just today I had to hold her while two CSI's swabbed her for DNA."

"Cats can smell all of the human emotions-fear, anger, sadness, love. Both Walter Mullinax and his killer gave off distinct scents at the time of his murder. Blizzard will react to that memory. I'd like to take her back to my office and give her a workup. I should be able to give you a report tomorrow."

Rick breathed deeply as Dr. Reese carefully nudged Blizzard back into her carrier and closed the door. "And then what?"

"Animal Control will keep her in protective custody, Rick" Horatio said.

Those blue eyes looked at him sadly through the cage doors. He took a deep breath and got up. "Fine. Let me know if I can do anything else."

* * *

><p>In the silence of his house, Rick attempted to reassemble the pages that Blizzard had torn up. "Stupid cat. Puked up a hairball on my chair!"<p>

Those blue eyes. That soft, white fur. That cute little voice. Rick swallowed and looked at the muddy paw prints on his living room carpet. "You made a mess" he insisted to himself. "Scratched me up, shed fur all over my furniture."

It was no use. It was too quiet in there. Rick sighed deeply and resigned himself to the fact that he would probably never see Blizzard again. He'd never get to pet her soft, white fur again. She'd never roll over on her back and purr just for him again. In the middle of his lonely, thankless life as the Head of Internal Affairs, Blizzard didn't judge him. He didn't have to compete with Horatio for her affection. No, he just had to feed her, pet her, talk to her, and let her out.

While he was deep in thought, Rick spotted a stray white hair on his red sleeve. He plucked it out and looked at it. He thought he could still hear her purring. "I'm gonna miss you" he finally whispered to himself as he tossed the hair aside.

His cell phone vibrated on his coffee table, rattling it. He picked it up and checked the caller ID. Horatio. "What is it, Horatio?" he said bitterly.

"Rick, I need you to get out to Dr. Reese's office. Now!"

Rick tipped his head up. "What's going on?" His heart skipped as he felt himself bolt to his feet. "What happened?"

"Rick? I'll explain later. Just get out here!"


	8. The Walls Have Eyes

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I would truly like to thank everyone for the reviews. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8—The Walls Have Eyes<strong>

Horatio, Alexx, Calleigh and Frank had to shut out the frantic barking and whining of the terrified dogs and cats around them. All could smell the blood and the fear that Dr. Reese most likely felt in the last moments of her life.

"Checked the office and the pharmaceutical vault" Frank said, pointing behind him. "Can rule out robbery. Anybody who hits a place like this is likely after the pills. Still there."

"Frank, I think they were after one thing in particular."

"No sign of that cat anywhere on the premises." Frank put a hand over one ear. "Doesn't look like there was a struggle in here. I'm gonna go take a look out in the parking lot."

Calleigh glanced up as she studied the crime scene in the veterinary clinic. A tabby kitten reared up and sniffed as she put her paws on the cage door. A Jack Russell terrier whined and barked, pacing back and forth, obviously upset at the world. In a bigger cage, a German Shepherd scratched the door with his paw, his head up and his ears back. Calleigh knew these behaviors. All were witnesses, and all were terrified.

Dr. Reese now lay on her back, her eyes and mouth halfway open, her head turned to the side. Her brunette ponytail lay soaked in the blood pool that spread out in the blue tile. She had been shot in the temple.

Alexx held up the bloodied hand and studied it. "Defensive wound, Horatio. Bullet passed through her hand. She went down fighting." With gloved hands she turned the veterinarian's head to face her. "You were trying to protect these animals, weren't you, Doctor?"

Hands on hips, Horatio studied Dr. Reese where she lay. "There are scuff marks on the floor under her feet. She was thrown to the floor, Alexx. Same execution style as Walter Mullinax."

"I'm gonna take a look at her back. Wanna give me a hand here, Horatio?"

Her head swayed forward as Alexx rolled the bloodsoaked body onto its side. Horatio studied the back of her blouse and slacks.

"Alexx, she was thrown to the floor and then shot."

"Through-and-through. Into her temple and then out the back of her head."

"And that's the round right there in the floor."

Calleigh stood behind them with a bag and forceps. Gently she pulled the bloodied round out of the tile. "Looks about the same as the one who shot Walter Mullinax. I'll know more when I get this to the lab."

"Casings?" Horatio asked.

Calleigh shook her head. "Looks like he knew to take it with him. Got a gravitational blood trail, though."

Horatio stood up. His blue eyes followed one trail, and then the other. "That and bloody footprints."

"One leads out the front door, while the other goes out the side."

"Both in a hurry." She bent down and swabbed, dripping solution on each swab. "Human. I'll get these back to the lab and check them against CODIS."

Horatio looked up at the surveillance cameras on the ceiling. "So somebody knew to take the casings, but still left us a trail to follow."

"I'll get these footprints."

"Do that, Calleigh. And have Mr. Wolfe check with the local hospitals. See whether anybody came in with a gunshot wound or an animal bite. In the meantime, I'm going to see what's on these cameras."

Rick walked in cautiously, looking around as he ducked under the yellow tape. Calleigh took a deep breath and went back to work.

"What happened, Horatio?" He stopped short to see Alexx hovering over Dr. Reese. "Where's the cat?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, Rick. Someone knew where to find Blizzard, and now she's missing."

Rick didn't want to admit it right there in front of Horatio, but the news sent a chill through him. The police officer in him knew that someone had come to take her back, but privately, the fears flew through his mind. That same someone could have taken her somewhere and was now cutting her ear off to get to that chip. Maybe butchering her alive just for the fun of it. He swallowed, not letting himself think about Blizzard screaming in pain while somebody dismembered her and just tossed her body aside. After all, she was evidence. He took a deep breath and put his hand over his face to think. "She's got that GPS chip on her ear. Can't we track her?"

Horatio opened his cell phone. "Doing that now, Rick." He hit the speed dial. "Tyler?"

Tyler picked up the phone. "Tyler Jensen."

"Horatio. Have you been able to trace those GPS chips Mr. Wolfe found?"

The A/V tech leaned forward and clicked keys. "Got the serial number right here."

"Is it tracking, Tyler?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

He looked at the blinking number on the screen and clicked keys again. A grid popped up. "It's standing still right now." He squinted. "It's off Venetian and Timiami Trail, but…."

"But what?"

"It's not on the road. Looks like it's maybe parked on the grass or something."

Frank burst through the door. "Hey! Uniforms just called in a car off the road! Theresa Mullinax was driving! Still in the car!"

Venetian and Timiami?" Horatio wanted to know, heading toward the door. "Thanks, Tyler."

"Yeah!"

"Let's go, Frank! Keep going! I think we've found Blizzard, and maybe our killer!"

The Hummer raced along the dark streets, siren blaring, darting past cars and streetlights. Horatio kept his eyes peeled while Frank hung onto the window ledge.

"Right there!" Frank pointed out.

It wasn't hard to find the crash site in the darkness as the Hummer slowed. A sea of flashing lights and cruisers surrounded the Ford Focus that had run into the streetlight. Smoke poured out of the crumpled hood. No treads on the pavement, but the curb and the grass were scraped. The driver never stopped, but had simply wandered off the road. Horatio and Frank darted out of the Hummer and into the crowd.

"Miami-Dade Police!" Horatio warned. He kept his badge visible and his hand on his firearm. Uniforms stepped back to let him through. "Anybody there?"

"Got the driver in there" an officer said. "Looks like she might have been shot or stabbed. Witnesses said she was driving erratically. Rescue's on the way."

"Did anybody recover any weapons?"

"No, Lieutenant. But there's a cat in the back."

The door was slightly open. The airbag had been deployed and now lay over the steering wheel like a towel. The windshield was cracked. The light pole leaned slightly over the car. He could smell antifreeze and transmission fluid.

Horatio poked his head in. "Ma'am? Miss Mullinax?"

The brown-haired woman weakly gripped the wheel with one hand and her abdomen with the other. Blood pulsed through her fingers. She shook with the pain and shock. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Ma'am, now hold on. Were you just at Dr. Reese's lab?"

She nodded, her eyes closed tightly. "I wanted my cat back" she whispered.

He knelt down and tried to look into her eyes. "Okay. Don't talk. Ambulance is on the way."

Theresa Mullinax turned her head to him painfully. "There…was…a…police…officer."

He tipped his head down. "Ma'am?"

She coughed. Blood spurted from her mouth and sprayed the airbag. Horatio stood up. This would probably be the woman's death confession.

"A police officer?"

Just then it dawned on him. This might be officer O'Brien.

"He…shot…me…and…Doctor…."

Her hair shook as she convulsed. Horatio grabbed her free hand. "Ma'am? Hold on. Come on! Stay with me, now!"

She slowly hung her head and was silent. Blood dripped from her mouth as her hand fell to her lap. She had been shot just under her sternum.

He closed her eyes all the way just as the ambulance pulled up. "Tell Rescue to take their time" he yelled as he stood back. "Frank, call Alexx!"

As medics tended to the body he covered his hand and opened the back door.

_Rowr?_

Gently he leaned down and picked up the cage. Blizzard crouched, ears down, watching everything around her with those frightened blue eyes.

"It's okay, Blizzard. At least we can get _you_ to safety."


	9. The Long Kiss Goodnight

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10—The Long Kiss Goodnight<strong>

Horatio and Delko stood behind Dan Cooper as he ran the surveillance tape.

"Okay. Slow it down here" Horatio instructed. The young A/V tech clicked the mouse.

"So Theresa Mullinax walks into the lab. Looks like she's just talking with Dr. Reese" Delko observed.

"Dr. Reese looks surprised" Horatio said. "She probably wasn't expecting any visitors."

Delko nodded as he kept watching. "You know, I don't get it, H. Nobody released Blizzard. How did Theresa Mullinax know where to go? And who even told her the cat was there?"

"I wonder whether we're about to find out." Instinctively he tipped his head down to watch.

"Here's our shooter. Looks like an MDPD uniform."

Horatio and Delko watched as the officer drew his firearm.

"Theresa Mullinax is standing back" Horatio said. "He's shoving Dr. Reese down and firing."

"Now he makes a grab for the cage."

"But Theresa Mullinax is fighting him."

"He shot her and ran off without the cat. Why go through all that trouble and then just take off without the cat?" Delko shook his head as he watched the woman stagger and then pick up the cage. "Can't even get a positive on him. He had his back to the camera the whole time. Coop, how about the parking lot surveillance?"

Dan Cooper poked keys with his index fingers. "Yeah, hang on."

Frustration was setting in as the two CSI's watched the black and white footage. "Nothing we can use yet" Delko said.

"If this isn't a police officer, he knows how to act like one. And that is very dangerous."

Dan Cooper kept his eyes glued to the black and white footage. "Car that pulled in looks like one of the unmarked units."

"Is there a license number? Unit marker?"

The young A/V tech shook his head. "Front just says 'MDPD.' No numbers."

Horatio squinted as he watched. "So that's a fake patrol car. Freeze it right there."

Dan clicked the mouse.

"Zoom in on the window. That's the car's VIN number. Can you run that?"

"Yeah. Just a second."

"I want you to find out who the vehicle's registered to. I also want to bring up Miss Mullinax's cell phone records.

"Sure." He clicked keys again. "Came from this number just half an hour before she showed up at the clinic. Disposable cell phone. Untraceable."

"I'd like to hear that voice message if I may."

Dan Cooper clicked the mouse.

_This message is for Theresa Mullinax. This is Officer James O'Brien with the Miami-Dade Police Department. Miss Mullinax, we've completed the part of the investigation that involves your cat Blizzard. She'll be at the Miami-Dade Crime Lab tomorrow morning, but if you would rather, you can pick her up at the Reese Veterinary Lab. The address is 6417 Timiami Trail Suite B. You can sign for her there and take her home if you like. Again, Officer James O'Brien with the Miami-Dade Police Department. _

The two CSI's looked at the sound board in silence.

"MDPD would never leave a message like that" Delko said.

"Theresa Mullinax walked into a trap."

"But why?"

"I don't know, Eric. But we need to find this Officer O'Brien."

* * *

><p>Rick looked at his rival dumbfounded. "Let me get this straight, Horatio. You want me to babysit this cat?"<p>

"It's the only choice we have right now, Rick. You're the only one she responds to. Both you and the cat will have round-the-clock surveillance at your residence, since she still has that tracking chip. Both Dr. Reese and Theresa Mullinax were murdered, so I'm recommending you carry a firearm as well."

"I know how to do my job!" he sniffed. "For how long?"

"Indefinitely."

"What?"

Horatio stepped forward, hands on hips, like so many times before when talking to his rival. "Rick, we have to call another animal behavioral expert. Also, not knowing how many officers' identities have been stolen, we really can't be sure who's after her. It will be at least a couple of days."

Rick wasn't about to admit it to Horatio, but he was glad to have Blizzard back in his care. He stuck his finger through the cage. Blizzard responded by rubbing her forehead against his fingertip. But then he looked up sternly at the Lieutenant. "So you expect me to carry this cat with me everywhere I go?"

"I'm going to recommend to IAB that they let you work at home, Rick. Are you up to it?"

"You make me sound like I'm some kind of an imbecile! I'll just get a few things for Blizzard and take her home."

"Got everything you need, Sergeant?" the young officer asked.

Rick patted his firearm. "Yeah."

"Gonna need you to leave the door unlocked. Case we have to get to you in an emergency."

"No problem."

"We'll walk the front and back yards. Let us know if there's a problem."

Rick nodded. "Thanks. Night." With that he slowly closed his front door.

Rick sat on the edge of his bed and glanced across the room at the old pillow he'd laid down for Blizzard. Real police work for a change, he thought, even if it was just babysitting a cat. He smiled at his firearm.

He picked up the crumpled pet store receipt and looked it over one last time. Plastic food dishes. A litter pan and twenty-five pounds of cat litter that made him sneeze. Five pounds of dry cat food at which she just turned up her nose. In a moment of weakness he'd even bought a fuzzy ball that she ignored. "Good thing the County's paying for all this."

The mattress bounced as Blizzard jumped up and slowly paced up to his knee, her head up.

_Ayr?_

He glared at her. "I hope you're happy. I bought you a whole bag of that premium dry food and you wouldn't touch it. You just keep eating my lunch meat."

She seemed to pay no attention to his rant as she looked at his hand. Slowly he held it out to her. She leaned forward and rubbed against his knuckles first with the left side of her face, then the right. It made him smile. Her soft white fur felt nice against his skin. She began to purr as he rubbed her head between the ears. She closed her eyes and took it in, her tail swaying.

"Okay, now go lay down" he ordered, pointing to the pillow on the floor. Blizzard gave him a blank stare. He responded by scooping her up and putting her on the floor before he lay down and slipped under the covers. With a tired sigh he closed his eyes and turned off the light.

_Rowr?_

"Go to sleep!"

The mattress bounced again as she jumped up next to his feet. Her purring grew louder and louder as she paced up to his head.

"What are you doing up here?" he mumbled, his eyes closed. "Go sleep on your pillow!"

Rick was tired enough to drift off to sleep when he heard that whistling in his ear. He shook his head and nudged her away. "Knock it off!"

Now his head bounced on the pillow as Blizzard paced around his head, studying him as she purred. She swung around, her tail slapping his nose. He snorted and rubbed his face. He could feel his blood pressure rising as Blizzard kneaded the pillow with her claws.

In a fit of anger Rick finally sat up and snapped on the light. Blizzard looked at him hopefully.

"If you don't go to sleep right now, I'm gonna throw you back in that cage and stick you out on the front step with the security detail! You hear me?"

The hopeful blue eyes looked at him sadly.

_Mrrmm?_

"No! This conversation is over!" He pointed toward the pillow on the floor. Blizzard craned her neck and rubbed against his knuckle. Rick could feel his anger melting away as the cat kneaded the blanket and slowly settled into a furry white ball, her eyes closed, her tail wrapped around her nose. She sighed and drifted off to sleep. He seemed to have gotten his point across.

"Fine!"

Rick couldn't help it. He lay his head back down and turned off the light.

* * *

><p>The car sat parked several blocks from Rick's house. In the darkness the driver opened his laptop and studied the grid on the monitor, the green glow lighting up his face.<p>

Just as he thought. She was there with Sergeant Stetler.

_I gotta get her back. Can't count on that idiot._

Satisfied that Sergeant Stetler was down for the night, the driver clicked off his laptop and closed it. Someone might see him, he thought. He started his engine and slowly drove away. He would try again later.


	10. Witness to Murder

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: In some states (I'm not sure whether Florida is one of them), animals may be credible witnesses. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11—Witness to Murder<strong>

Delko stepped into the computer lab. "Get anything off that fake car's VIN number, Coop?"

Without taking his eyes off the monitor, Dan Cooper handed up a printout. "Registered to a Dean Cresswell here in Miami. Not MDPD. Or anywhere else."

Delko studied the printed photo. Young, short black hair, receding hairline. "Last record of employment was a year ago." He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that where Walter Mullinax worked?"

"Yep. They both got laid off about the same time when the firm downsized."

"Bring up James O'Brien's file."

Dan Cooper clicked keys again. James O'Brien's photo with the words DECEASED popped up on the main monitor. "Looks just like him. But that's Dean Cresswell's last known address."

Rick Stetler stood behind Blizzard and held his hands over her shoulders. The white cat looked up at him patiently while Tyler came by with a handheld scanner and waved it over her back. "If there is a chip in here that has information, this'll pick it up. It can read up to three feet away."

Ryan stood at Blizzard's side. She ignored him. "I don't get it. That printout said 'MDPD Blizzard's ear.'"

"We'll find out" Tyler assured him.

The scanner beeped. Tyler looked at the screen. "Yep, this cat's got a memory chip. Five hundred meg. It's right here between her shoulder blades. About the size of one of those HomeAgain chips."

"So the chip in her left ear is a GPS tracker, but there's a memory chip in her back. Nothing to do with who owns her." Ryan put one hand on Blizzard's chest and probed her back in circular motions with one finger. She looked at him curiously and swung her tail. "Yep, there's a tiny lump right here. Too hard to be a cyst." At that moment his cell phone chirped. "Ryan Wolfe. Yeah. I'll let him know, Horatio." He clicked his phone shut. "Sergeant Stetler, Horatio wants you to bring Blizzard over to Interrogation."

The IAB agent nudged the cat into the cage and closed the door. "Come on, Blizzard." She made him feel like he was doing important police work again.

Ryan snickered as Rick strode out proudly with the cage. "So who'd've thought? Stetler actually got somebody to like him."

Tyler smiled. That smile went away quickly when blue and green print reflected back at him. "Yep, these are MDPD officers all right." He shook his head.

Ryan just looked over his shoulder. "Look at this. Must be about two dozen or so here."

"Names, addresses, next of kin. Social Security numbers, birthdates, security levels. And Calleigh was just one of them."

"You suppose these are random?"

"Don't know. They must've hacked the system before I could get the firewall up."

"I mean, why them?" Ryan nodded at the screen. "What about this? 'AMVW Detail'?"

Tyler clicked the mouse. Another screen flashed. "Same thing. This is another HR database. AMVW employees. Looks like Walter Mullinax hacked into their computer too."

Ryan lowered his head in thought. "Wait a minute! Tyler, go back to the MDPD names."

Tyler clicked and scrolled again. Names rolled up on the black screen.

"These are officers who volunteered to help the Air Force with AMVW. Security detail to help with shipments into the Port of Miami."

"So somebody had a good reason to hide this info on a cat" Ryan mulled. "I better call H."

* * *

><p>He could have fooled nearly anyone in that uniform, Horatio thought. He wore the short-sleeved khakis, shined shoes, even a badge, all in perfect detail to Officer O'Brien. "Lieutenant Caine—" he began.<p>

"Sit down, Mr. Cresswell!" Horatio growled. The Lieutenant could handle just about anything except child killers, abusive boyfriends, or anyone who would undermine his team. Now this MDPD imposter would feel the weight of his anger.

The man looked at him dumbfounded as he slowly sat down. "I'm sorry, Sir? Officer James O'Brien."

Horatio pulled out a piece of paper and slid it in front of him. "Officer James O'Brien was killed in a hang gliding accident. You assumed his identity! You then shot Walter Mullinax with Officer O'Brien's backup service revolver." He held out his hand. "The badge!"

Cautiously the young man handed his MDPD badge to Horatio who then studied it. "Where'd you get this?"

He dropped his eyes.

"Mr. Cresswell, you're looking at the death penalty, if you last that long in lockup. Impersonating a police officer, obtaining property under false pretenses, three counts of Murder One, conspiracy, and selling a police officer's identity. But I get the feeling you didn't act alone."

The fake officer shook his head. "Police officer's identity?"

"Bridgette Hambry gave you up. You sold her Calleigh DuQuesne's identity. Was money a little tight after you were laid off?"

"Lieutenant Caine, I don't know anything about any murders."

It was all Horatio could do not to lose patience with him. "Ballistics matched all of the rounds in the real Officer O'Brien's backup weapon to Walter and Theresa Mullinax, and Dr. Reese. We have proof that you set up Theresa Mullinax and then shot her execution-style. As we speak, my ballistics expert is testing your backup weapon."

He shook his head. Wordlessly Horatio held out a microcassette recorder and clicked it on, playing the voice mail message. "Sounds like your voice, Mr. Cresswell. Not only that, but we have a material witness to every one of your murders." Out of the corner of his eye Horatio watched Rick Stetler carry the cage down the hall. He motioned toward the uniformed officer behind him. "Officer, take Mr. Cresswell down the hall. Wait for me outside the door."

The black-haired, gray-eyed man seemed calm and collected, but he was obviously unsettled on finding out about Dr. Reese's death. Horatio fingered his sunglasses. "I'm sorry for your loss, Dr. Hughes."

"Thank you, Lieutenant" he said quietly. "Dr. Reese was brilliant with animals. I'd worked with her a couple of times. We've both been expert witnesses at trials. Sometimes on opposite sides of the courtroom."

"Doctor, Sergeant Stetler is going to bring in a white cat named Blizzard. We think she's witnessed several murders, including her owner as well as the owner's brother. We'll need you to work with us."

"Absolutely."

Rick stepped through the door carrying Blizzard in the black carrier. Blizzard crouched in the cage and watched ahead of her, glancing around, sniffing, getting to know her new surroundings. "What's going on, Horatio? You paged me."

"Rick, this is Dr. Leland Hughes, who will be taking Dr. Reese's place. He too is an animal behavioral specialist and a veterinarian."

Rick and the veterinarian nodded to each other. "So this is Blizzard?" He seemed to welcome the cat as she slowly, cautiously sniffed along the table. "It's okay, Blizzard. Don't be afraid."

"Doctor Reese explained to us that dogs and cats will recognize and react to certain sounds, scents and voices. You will also have to make sure she would be good as an animal witness. Is that true?"

Blizzard sniffed his hand and looked up at him. "That's correct."

Horatio nodded at the uniformed officer who stood outside the door of the glassed room. He escorted in Dean Cresswell.

Blizzard immediately crouched and laid her ears back, eyes dilated. The fur on her back stood on end. Her tail fluffed up like a bottle brush as she growled in low, threatening tones.

Dean Cresswell sniffed and smiled slightly. "What's a cat doing in here? What's going on?" He reached out with his fingers. Blizzard responded by baring her teeth and hissing, never taking her eyes off the officer. Doctor Hughes's attention was piqued. He stood up, watching Blizzard and the imposter carefully.

Horatio also watched every move. Dean Creswell had been around this cat before.

"Mr. Cresswell, roll up your pants legs. Both of them."

He hesitated.

"Mr. Cresswell, either you can do it now or in lockup. The choice is yours."

Still standing, he bent over and pulled up the cuffs of his khaki slacks with both hands and pushed down his black socks. Horatio nodded at the two puncture wounds on each side above his right ankle. Dean Cresswell swallowed and trembled.

"Rick, take Blizzard out" Horatio instructed. "Dr. Hughes will need to take an impression of her teeth and match it to the bite marks on Mr. Cresswell's leg."

Rick dipped his head and tightened his lips. "You're the guy who broke into my house!"

"The lab is going to prove that Blizzard bit Mr. Cresswell when he tried to retrieve her."

Blizzard seemed to calm down as Rick nudged the growling, hissing cat back into her cage. As he passed by with the cage, the cat's low growling turned into a singsong wail. Her ears laid down and her claws came out, ready for action.

Horatio kept his head down. This man was an imposter and a murderer. "Mr. Creswell, why don't you tell me what your interest is in that cat?"

The man started to tremble, and he sat down as his legs gave out. "I-I…."

He cocked his head. "Whoever you're working for is going to let you take the fall, and you know it. You're looking at Murder One, impersonating a police officer, first-degree burglary and obtaining property under false pretenses. The murder charge will get you the death penalty if you last that long in lockup. I, on the other hand, can cut you a deal."

Dean Cresswell's aloofness turned into fear. He gripped the table. "I can't."

"Think about it while you're in lockup. Book him and get him out of that uniform!"

Rick Stetler watched through the glass while Blizzard crouched and growled. He raised the cage and looked into her angry blue eyes. "Hey! Cut it out!"

Blizzard stopped growling.


	11. Collateral Damage

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11—Collateral Damage<strong>

Rick lay on his stomach, sound asleep, the covers up around his bare shoulders. The vivid dream he'd been having caused him to twitch. Now there was a strange clicking that had become the background noise in his dream. He grimaced and shifted onto his side.

_Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!_

Years as a police officer made him suspicious of any out-of-place sights or sounds, even in his sleep. He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Through bleary eyes, he saw that the clock read twelve-thirty.

_Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!_

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "The hell is that?"

Silence.

_Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!_

It was coming from the bathroom. He was feeling that pressure on his bladder and figured now was a good time to find out whether maybe he had a leaky faucet or if maybe more mice had found their way in. Slowly he got up and stumbled along the floor, following the nightlight in the bathroom.

_Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!_

He snapped on the bathroom light.

Blizzard was on the rim of the toilet, her head down. She looked up, but then her weight shifted, causing her to lose her footing. She slipped and landed in the toilet with a splash and a howl, splashing the wall and the floor.

Rick squinted in the brightness as he ran over to the toilet. Blizzard howled and flailed, baptizing him. He reached his arm in and fished out the wet cat, holding her by the scruff of the neck. She flailed wildly in the air, trying to grab anything, spraying more water on the wall, the floor, and an annoyed IAB agent. Rather than be stung with those claws again, he reflexively dropped her. She left a trail of water on the floor as she bolted out of the bathroom.

"Hey! You got—" He tried to run after her to keep her from causing yet another mess, but she was gone. He grabbed a towel and cursed under his breath as he looked around at the walls and at himself. "Stupid cat!"

The silence was deafening in Rick Stetler's living room. He was tired and grouchy from being awake half the night, thanks to Blizzard's near-drowning. His black, wavy hair poked out. He hadn't shaven yet. The washer could be heard rattling down the hall, washing the clothes and towels he'd used to mop up the bathroom and carpet. He took a sip of his coffee and slapped the blue mug down on the desk, nearly breaking it. He scowled at the red, yellow, white and brown shreds that had once been his chance to stick it to Horatio Caine. His bloodshot eyes looked at the torn file and then at the pieces of tape. This would have to do until he could get certified copies.

"I'm stuck here babysitting a cat who trashes my house and wakes me up, and I gotta tape a whole file back together! See what you did?"

_Ayr?_

"Get out of here! You made another mess!"

_Mrrrm?_

Rick took a deep breath and looked down at the hopeful blue eyes. "No! Go away! I fed you! Like if it's not IAB crap, it's you trashing my house!"

But Rick couldn't help it. Those blue eyes seemed to apologize. It was as though deep down, Blizzard knew she'd caused him grief, but she didn't understand how or why. Her white tail waved in the air as she rubbed against his bare ankle. He could feel his anger slipping away. "Go away!"

Blizzard sat by his bare feet and casually licked her paws. She seemed to know she had him. Rick turned his attention back to the pile of torn papers. "I bet Caine never had to put a report back together. Never had a cat puke a hairball on his chair" he growled.

Two white paws now hooked onto the edge of the table, claws out. Blizzard seemed to have more trouble jumping up on things lately. "Here. Come on." With a sigh he wrapped his hands around her white girth and hoisted her up. "You fat cat."

Blizzard sat at the edge of the table and scrutinized everything.

"Do you approve of the job I'm doing?"

She then came up and rubbed her forehead on his forearm. With two fingers he rubbed her between her pinkish-white ears. She tipped her head up toward his hand and closed her eyes, almost smiling. She moved her head so that his fingers rubbed the short fur above her eyes and on her nose. She then lowered her head and moved forward, letting him rub her shoulders. He responded by taking both hands and kneading her muscles.

"Why do you aggravate me like this?"

She then lay on her side, her eyes closed, kneading the air. Her front paws stood up in the air. Her tail patted the desk.

"You like that, don't you? I can hear that little purr motor." Before Rick knew it, he was leaning over her and talking in baby talk. "Yes. Listen to that little purr motor. Daddy hears that little purr motor going." Quickly he cleared his throat. The head of Internal Affairs didn't speak baby talk to anyone, least of all a fat white cat.

He couldn't help it. She just looked so sweet with those blue eyes closed. Relaxed. Lying on her side next to him on his desk. Without warning she opened her eyes and started to wash her paws. She was like a white furry baby.

Rick nodded at the torn-up report. "You know, for such a cute cat, you sure can do some damage. Look at this. Makes me wonder whose side you're on." He dipped his head. "Looks like you solved three murders. You solved my break-in."

Blizzard slowly rolled over, sat up, and washed her side.

The IAB agent held up a pink shred of paper. "You see what you did? You're destructive."

Blizzard looked at the paper, ignoring him.

"Yeah! You did that! I'd like to know how the hell I'm supposed to do an investigation."

The white cat looked down thoughtfully at the pile of shredded papers. She pawed another pink piece of paper and picked it up in her teeth. Rick grabbed it.

"Hey! Gimme that!"

Those blue eyes looked at him defiantly as she refused to let go. Rick leveled his eyes at hers and held his face just inches away. "_Give me that_!"

Blizzard opened her mouth as he pulled the paper away. "You drooled on it!" he sneered as he held up the wet paper with two fingers. But then something caught his attention.

"Hmm. Inventory sheet from the evidence locker. Detective Stephen French had accused Caine of mishandling the evidence in James O'Brien's death, but here it says he went into the evidence. Doesn't have a date." He looked at the hopeful white cat again. "Don't suppose you can help me dig up a date in that pile."

Her blue eyes looked at him and then at the piece of paper.

"Guess I should thank you. And talk to Detective French."

* * *

><p>The officer unbuckled his shoulder holster and placed it into the locker. He then held his arms out as a corrections guard ran the wand over him. He had worked homicide for much of his life, and it showed in his face. He'd seen all the ways humans could kill each other. Many times the only words he had for the grieving families was "I'm sorry for your loss." Risking his life to haul in the same dirtball every few years, only to watch a judge cut him loose on a technicality. His reddish-brown hair was mussed, and he had a bald spot. He looked tired, angry.<p>

"Go on in, Detective" the guard said.

He nodded and sat at the booth.

Dean Cresswell wore an orange Dade County jumpsuit as he limped to the booth. He sported a red scratch and bruises under his eye. The cockiness he once had as a phony officer was a memory now as he sat down painfully and picked up the phone.

"Looks like they did a number on you."

He took a deep breath. "Couple of guys beat me up."

"Yeah well, word gets around GP when the new meat's a cop. Real or fake."

The man just stared in a dazed silence as he held the phone to his ear. This was more than he bargained for, and this officer didn't seem to care.

"You screwed up, Kid. All you had to do was go in there, get the cat, get the info, and then give it a swimming lesson. How hard was that?"

"I didn't know that vet was gonna be there."

His jaded blue eyes blazed at him as he leaned forward to make his point. "So you let everybody know you were a fake badge when you let her spook you! Now the MDPD's all over the place, and they got the head of IAB babysitting her! Donovan's been breathing down my neck for that info, and I can't get to it, and it's gonna be a matter of time before Stetler wants to talk to me! You and your buddy were supposed to help me! That's what you got paid for, but you were running around with a fake badge like Halloween!"

Dean Cresswell seemed to want to do something—jump through the plexiglass, scratch and scream, run, anything. But the reality was sinking in that he might be there for life, and this was just the beginning. He was hoping this cop could somehow help him. "So now what?"

"I'll get the cat just long enough to download the info and deal with Stetler." He started to stand up.

Dean Cresswell looked up at him wide-eyed. "What about me?"

"Hey, you screwed up! Get a good lawyer!" With that the man hung up the phone and walked away.


	12. The French Connection

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12—The French Connection<strong>

Rick Stetler set aside his embarrassment as he flipped open the taped-up, dog-eared file. He was used to negative reactions, he reasoned. This makeshift investigation packet that had been Blizzard's toy a few days ago, but it would have to do. These compromised ID's were just too important.

Detective Steven French was a gruff, older homicide detective, reminding Rick a lot of Sully, Horatio's pre-CSI partner. He ignored the detective's stares as he flipped through the crackling, taped-up pages. He cleared his throat and set his microcassette recorder out on the table and clicked it on."

"Detective French. It says here you filed a sworn statement that Lieutenant Caine mishandled evidence in the death of Officer James O'Brien."

"That's right" he said coolly.

"I'm looking at…a sign-in log from the evidence cage that says you accessed evidence from the James O'Brien case on September 16. The box was resealed with Lieutenant Caine's initials."

Detective French leaned back, his hands in his pockets. "I don't understand how this involves me."

Rick tipped his head up. "It says here that the following items were supposedly mishandled." He ran his finger past the bite marks and saliva stains on the page. "A .38 special, confirmed to be Officer O'Brien's backup weapon and Officer O'Brien's badge, which we've since found to be duplicated in the Bridgette Hambry case. I don't have all the documents here, but you need to be aware that evidence from a case was compromised. Evidence that may need to be called in and cause us to lose a case somewhere down the road."

Detective French slowly sat forward. "Evidence from a _closed_, case, Sergeant!"

Rick leaned forward as well so that their eyes were just inches apart from each other. "Yes, I'm aware of that! Closed for now. Did you access the evidence to the O'Brien case?"

The man tightened his lips. "I'm not saying another word until I talk to a union attorney."

Rick's green eyes scanned the pages again. "Fine. Technically this investigation is in the preliminary stages, so I'm not able to restrict Lieutenant Caine's or your duty."

He stood up with a shrug. "So technically I don't have to be here, do I?"

"I saw from the duty log that you volunteered as a security detail for my case."

"Yeah. Are you comfortable with that?"

"Are _you_ comfortable with that?"

Steven French sniffed. "You been in this damned office too long, Sergeant."

"Be that as it may, you realize that once I have the certified copies, this investigation will be ongoing."

"Yeah, because the dog chewed up your homework!"

Rick leveled his eyes at him. This cop knew how to get under his skin. "Just report to my residence when you're supposed to. That's all for now."

He nodded confidently. "I won't disappoint you, Sergeant. Don't worry about that."

* * *

><p>Horatio unsnapped his watch and placed his nine millimeter into the lockbox. He then stood with his arms out as the guard wanded him. "You're clear, Lieutenant."<p>

Horatio put his arms down as the guard stood back. "Thank you, Officer."

Dean Cresswell hunched over the table, totally defeated and desperate now. He had a black, crusty scab over his left earlobe in addition to the scar under his eye. His long, slender fingers had purplish marks on them. Horatio had seen this before. He suspected that the other inmates found out what he had done on the outside and had given him a "warning". His eyes had dark circles under them, a sure sign that he probably hadn't slept in days. His bruised fingers trembled. He swallowed.

The redheaded Lieutenant dipped his head. "Mr. Cresswell. I understand you're willing to take me up on my offer?"

His head down, he folded his arms and nodded.

"You have my attention."

The young man shook more violently now. He took a deep breath and glanced at the guard and then at the ceiling. "I—I was working with Walter Mullinax in a company called TechForce. It's an IT firm. We were both given our pink slips when they shipped our jobs overseas. Well…."

Horatio nodded. Instinct told him this was going to be big. "Go on, Son."

"Walter and I were approached by a Detective Steven French."

"Steven French. Homicide. How do you know him?"

The young man shook his head. "I don't know. Walt was really quiet about that. Said he needed us to try to hack the MDPD personnel database. He had a connection with AMVW Security. Wanted to get some ID's. Gave us a lot of money."

Horatio furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned forward. "Was that the fifty thousand dollar deposit we found in your bank records?"

"Probably."

"What did he intend to do with these ID's?"

He swallowed.

"Take your time, Son."

"Me and Walter Mullinax. We-we hacked into your system. Walt did most of the work. Got the codes and everything. Detective French gave us the names of some officers who were detailed to work with the Air Force to guard some kind of a shipment."

"What kind of shipment?"

He closed his eyes. "I don't know! This French guy said to just take the money and don't ask any questions." A tear ran down his reddened, tired face. "That sounded like a good idea to me. We'd both lost our jobs and there wasn't anything out there."

"Was James O'Brien one of the identities? Tell me how you ended up posing as James O'Brien."

"I found out the guy had just come to Miami from Orlando. No family. Detective French said nobody really knew him. I look a lot like him, so, I learned police lingo, learned codes, I can fire a nine millimeter. It was a lot easier to do than anybody thought. Police gear? You can buy that stuff in an Army Surplus store or online. Nobody ever asked questions. Was even able to rig my car with a blue light. I mean, _nobody_ asked questions. Not even any of the other 'trollers. Everybody just assumed I was another rookie from Orlando. I put up with the rookie pranks and just laid low."

"Why?"

"French said it was easier to get information this way." The young man grabbed his sweaty, trembling fingers as he hesitated. But deep down he knew this Lieutenant could be trusted.

"And?"

"I kind of liked the power it gave me. Little kids looked up to me for the first time. People would pay for my lunch and say hi to me on the street. The girls kind of like a man in uniform."

"Did Detective French ever tell you about any connections within AMVW?"

"Some guy he calls Donovan. Don't know any more than that. Detective French told us to keep it quiet and hide the info somewhere in case the Feds came looking for it. Walt came up with the idea of downloading it into a chip and putting it on his sister's cat. So he got some insulin needles from the drugstore and put a GPS tracker on the cat's ear and the info on her back. Something happened, and French wanted the info. I don't know what happened, but Walter said he'd go to the Feds and roll over. He got himself into some trouble of some kind, I don't know."

"Did you shoot Walter Mullinax?"

Dean Cresswell looked at him firmly. "No! I went to his apartment that day. I tried to tell him that maybe we should just go to the Feds or something and then just take off into hiding, but he wouldn't do it. So I left. I found out I'd left the .38 in Walt's apartment. When I found out he'd been shot, I laid low. I didn't know who'd come looking to finish me off too."

"Then who did?"

His heart quaked. "I don't know. But I swear to God, it wasn't me." He paused and wiped a tear from his eye. "Please! You gotta believe me!"

Horatio could read witnesses and suspects like a book. Dean Cresswell had no reason to lie to him. The young man looked straight into his eyes. This young man wasn't a career felon who could work the system.

"I believe you."

"Please get me out of there? I'm sorry for what I did to you. Walt was my friend, and he's dead now. I swear, if you get me out of this place, I'll do whatever it takes to make it right." He broke down and sobbed, holding his hands over his head. "I swear. Whatever it takes." He wiped his nose as sweat fell from his forehead to the table. "Somebody might kill me, but I'd rather die right now than spend the rest of my life in here."

"Mr. Cresswell, what you're doing is called 'turning state's evidence.' I'm going out to the warden right now and have you transferred to protective custody immediately."

The young man sobbed more openly now and reached for Horatio's arm. "Thank you."

As he stepped out of the holding area, Horatio discreetly opened his cell phone. "Tyler? I want you to check on the whereabouts of Detective Steven French."

Tyler tapped on his keyboard. "Detective Steven French is on security detail this evening."

A chill ran through the seasoned Lieutenant's spine. He somehow knew this was trouble. "What kind of security detail?"

"Sergeant Stetler's residence. Guarding Sergeant Stetler and Blizzard."

Horatio found himself moving faster toward his Hummer. "What time does he report?"

Tyler glanced at the clock. "He should be relieving the first shift just about now."

"Thank you Tyler." Horatio didn't wait for an answer as he hit his speed dial again.

"Frank? Horatio! Put out a BOLO for Detective Steven French! Blue lights to Sergeant Stetler's residence! Just do it!"


	13. In the Line of Duty

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13—In the Line of Duty<strong>

Rick Stetler hadn't slept very well the night before, and the investigation itself was starting to wear him down. Since his primary duty right now was to babysit Blizzard, he figured it would be all right to turn in for the night. With tired, bloodshot eyes he stared into the refrigerator. He was so tired that nothing really interested him.

_Rowr?_

Blizzard sat at his feet, her tail slapping the floor. She pawed the air, blue eyes looking hopeful. The tired IAB agent turned and scowled at her. "What the hell's wrong with your cat food?"

_Ayr?_

"No! I'm not giving you any more lunch meat! You hear me?"

The white cat plopped down on the floor and watched him expectantly. He reached into the refrigerator and tossed a piece of roast beef onto the floor. "Here! But that's it!" Blizzard lunged forward and devoured it, turning her head sideways as she chewed the delectable meat so she could savor every bite. "I can't keep spoiling you like that."

Rick left his hungry charge and stepped outside in the faint evening light where Detective French stood watch. Both men nodded to one another. "I'm turning in for the night, Detective" Rick said dispassionately. "Front door's unlocked if you need to get in for some reason."

The wavy-haired detective nodded out of obligation. "See you later."

Rick wore a black tee shirt and workout pants as he slipped under the covers. He checked the frequency on his black handheld before setting it on the nightstand next to his nine millimeter. He then lay his head on the pillow and closed his eyes with a tired sigh before pulling the covers up over his chest.

_Mrrm?_

Rick opened one eye. "Well, come on up. You're going to, anyway." The mattress bounced as Blizzard pulled herself up one paw at a time. At first it bothered Rick that the cat dug her claws into his bed, but now it was all right. His head still on the pillow, he watched the purring cat creep up to his head, sniffing the covers and rubbing her forehead against his arm. He responded by rubbing her forehead with his fingers. She sat down and purred loudly, her eyes closed. "You're spoiled rotten, you know that?" He reached over and snapped off the light. "Don't get into anything."

Blizzard curled up by his head, her favorite sleeping spot, and closed her eyes.

Detective French slipped in the front door in the faint light. It was completely silent except for a ticking mantle clock and Rick snoring in the back bedroom. Quietly he crept down the hallway and into the bedroom, his hand on his firearm.

_Just grab the cat and get the hell out of here. _

Rick's handheld radio and firearm lay on the nightstand. Carefully he picked them both up and shut off the handheld, putting them in his jacket pocket.

* * *

><p>The Hummer raced along the I-95 Bridge, past the massive, looming cruise ships that glowed in the evening light.<p>

"French should be on duty right now, Frank!" Horatio said over the radio. "See if you can reach Stetler on his handheld."

Frank clicked on the receiver. Nothing "He's not answering, Horatio. Checked all frequencies."

Horatio gripped the wheel more tightly as the Hummer screamed through the traffic. "He's not answering his cell phone either."

* * *

><p>In the darkness Steven French raised his nine millimeter just inches from Rick's head. No, it was better to just grab the cat and get out of there. Just grab the cat, get the information, and then throw her in the bay. For all he knew, someone slipped in the back or the cat escaped out the back. That would be his story.<p>

Blizzard opened her eyes and rose up, her blue eyes blazing at him in the darkness. She could smell from the anger and fear that this human was a threat. She crept between them where she crouched and laid her ears back, baring her teeth and growling low.

Rick stirred and sleepily rolled onto his back, still unaware of what was going on.

With his free hand he reached out to grab Blizzard by the scruff of the neck. She lunged forward and sank her teeth into his hand. He yelped and balled up his wounded hand, cursing.

Rick woke up with a start. "Hey, what—" He turned around in time to be blinded when Detective French snapped on his light. He found himself staring at a snarling cat and the barrel of a nine millimeter. "Hey!"

French held his wounded hand against his shirt. "Gimme the cat!"

Blizzard stood between her master and this dangerous human, her growling now a singsong wail. She bared her teeth and her fur stood on end.

Rick glanced at the nightstand for his radio and his firearm. Gone.

* * *

><p>With one hand Horatio gripped the wheel as he darted around traffic. "Yeah, this is Lieutenant Caine with the Crime Lab. Got a noncontact with Detective Steven French and Sergeant Rick Stetler. Requesting backup at Sergeant Stetler's residence!"<p>

* * *

><p>Rick held his hands up, helpless to do anything else. His heart quaked while Blizzard crouched, looking as though she might lunge at the desperate cop. "Put the firearm down, Detective. You don't want to do this."<p>

The detective seemed to tremble now. "I just want the cat, Stetler!"

Both men heard sirens in the distance. Slowly Rick held out his hand. "Let me have your fire—"

French lunged forward. Rick slipped under his arm and grabbed it. French tried to pull back as Blizzard backed away, still growling. "Dammit, gimme the—"

His weapon fired. Blizzard screeched and flopped over. She lay silent.

"_No!_" Rick had Detective French by the neck and arm now. His eyes went wide when he saw Blizzard lying on her side with blood on her stomach.

The front door exploded open as Horatio, Frank and two other uniformed officers burst through the door. Steven French stiffened up when he heard another firearm click behind his head.

"Put it down!" Tripp hollered, his weapon behind the detective's head. "Now!"

"You heard him" Horatio growled in a low, threatening tone. "On your knees, hands behind your head."

The gruff detective slowly set his firearm on the nightstand and dropped to his knees while Frank snapped cuffs on him. "Steven French, you're under arrest. Attempted murder and threatening a police officer. Don't worry; there'll be more."

Blizzard lay on her side on the blanket. Blood seeped out of her stomach and by now had smeared her paws. She opened her mouth to cry in pain, but nothing came out. Rick wasted no time. He flipped the blanket around her and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like a baby. "Horatio, she's been shot" he said, nearly begging. "Call Alexx! We gotta get her to a vet. Something!"

It wasn't often that Rick Stetler begged Horatio Caine for anything. But right now none of that mattered. That little white cat was a wounded hero who needed their help. "Get her in the Hummer, Rick! I'll drive."

The brown Hummer screamed through Miami evening traffic, weaving around dumbfounded drivers, lights flashing. Horatio held the receiver to his mouth as he gripped the wheel.

"This is Lieutenant Caine! Got a cat with a gunshot wound. Page Dr. Hughes! We're enroute to the Flagler Animal Hospital!"

Rick paid no attention to the siren above them or the blur of taillights on the dark road. He looked into those blue eyes. Those sad, scared, hurting blue eyes. She opened her mouth again.

"It's okay" he found himself whispering, holding the corner of the blanket over the wound. "You're gonna be okay."

Horatio couldn't help but glance at the desperate IAB agent who cradled the bleeding cat in that blanket, shushing her, almost rocking her like a baby. This was a side of Rick Stetler he hadn't seen in years.

Under the flashing lights, Rick could barely see those blue eyes. They were looking more distant now.

"Come on, Horatio!"

"Going as fast as I can, Rick! You know that! Doctor Hughes is waiting for us."

He swallowed and held his index finger under her bloody front paw. Her eyes were closing. "Hang in there."

Ever so gently she curled her bloody paw around his finger. She understood.

The Hummer screeched to a stop at the curb by the Flagler Animal Hospital. His arm around the bloodstained bundle, Rick threw the door open and ran into the front door. A short, heavyset young woman with glasses and curly brown hair ran forward.

"This the cat who got shot?"

"Yeah."

She held out her arms. "Give her to me. Dr. Hughes is getting prepped."

Rick quickly but gingerly handed the bundle to her. She peeked into the blanket. "We're gonna fix you up, Sweetheart." Rick started to follow her, but she closed the door behind her. "I'm sorry, you'll have to wait outside."

Except for Rick, the waiting room was empty. Quiet. He stood with his hands in his pockets, watching the door. On the other side he could hear the barking, whimpering and whining of the other patients. The clanking and beeping of the medical tools. The anxious voices. He sat down and stared at the door.

"Don't let her die."


	14. Someone Saved My Life Tonight

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Wow! I'm truly humbled by all of your reviews. Based on what I've read, I've decided to post the next chapter tonight. Thanks very much. **

**The song for this chapter is "In the Arms of an Angel" by Sara McLaughlin. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14—Someone Saved My life Tonight<strong>

Having parked the Hummer, Horatio stepped into the quiet, empty waiting room. Rick Stetler, once his begrudging rival, now stood at the brown door, his hands in his pockets, watching sadly into the window. Horatio dipped his head. The police officer who was watching through that window was the same one who always seemed to be in a death match against him for everything, from that Lieutenant slot, to control over the CSI lab, to his career itself. Blizzard was more than just a cat, and everyone knew it now. "Rick, where's Blizzard?" he asked quietly.

The IAB agent barely acknowledged his presence. "They took her in there and didn't tell me anything."

"Rick, I found out from Eric that Steven French had to be taken to the hospital. It appears Blizzard bit him while you were sleeping."

The IAB agent just looked at him.

"Dean Cresswell is going to turn state's evidence. We think French was going to execute you the way Walter Mullinax was."

Rick looked down at the floor. "So Blizzard saved my life" he said quietly.

"She did. Rick, why don't you go home? French is in custody, and the CSI's should have cleared the scene by now. The chief will want to talk to you probably first thing in the morning."

Rick dipped his head. "I'm gonna stay here and wait. Have one of the officers lock up my house and bring me my badge, my cell phone, and my wallet. Can't have my firearm here."

"I'll do that, Rick. Anything else?"

"Tell the Chief I'll talk to him whenever he likes. I'm not very tired right now."

"I'll take care of it." With that he left.

Rick was alone, finally settled into one of the blue chairs while he waited for the officers to bring him his things. His bloodshot eyes fell on the posters of healthy dogs, flea medications, pet care magazines, and the empty front desk. Presumably, everyone was trying to stabilize Blizzard. He folded his arms and leaned his head against the white wall, finally drifting off to sleep.

"Officer Stetler?"

He jerked his head up and rubbed his face. "Uh huh?"

The same large, bespectacled tech who had rushed Blizzard into the back now stood in front of him. Rick stretched and watched her face, trying desperately to read her expression. "Can you tell me how she's doing?"

She nodded toward the door. "Why don't we come into the back? Dr. Hughes finished up, and then he got another call, so he asked me to talk to you."

Sleepily Rick clipped his badge onto the waistband of his workout pants. He then stood up and followed her through several brown doors into the lighted room. The screaming lights and smell of chemicals assaulted his senses.

Blizzard lay on her side on the silver table, barely recognizable. She had a small oxygen mask strapped over her head. Her pinkish-white paws were curled under her. Blue flex bandages covered her pink shaven girth, which seemed much smaller now. IV tubes snaked up the table and into her forepaws, covered by more bandages. The _Beep! Beep! Beep!_ of the heart monitor and the hissing of the oxygen were just noise in the background. Those little blue eyes were closed, and she was totally unaware of their presence.

"You didn't answer my question. How is she?" Rick asked again.

The tech hesitated. "Critical. We waited until her vitals stabilized before we called you. Dr. Hughes isn't sure she'll last the night. She was in severe shock when you brought her in, and she had a lot of internal bleeding. It's a miracle she's still alive right now." The woman motioned with her left hand. "The bullet passed between some major organs. Just a hair one way or the other and she would've been gone."

"You said she might not last the night."

The large tech nodded sadly. "She could go either way, but we're gonna do our best."

"What time is it now?"

"One fifteen."

He hung his head and nodded. "Can I just sit alone with her for a few minutes?"

She gently touched his shoulder. "Of course. I'll be outside if you need anything."

Rick pulled a chair up to the silver table and sat, his tired eyes looking over every detail of her. Except for the hissing and the heart monitor, there was a deafening silence.

Reality was sinking in for him as he studied those closed eyes and stroked her white fur with his fingers. He listened to the hissing and beeping of the equipment that kept her alive. "There are a lot of back doors in Miami. Why the hell did you have to come to mine? I don't really even like cats. They smell. They shed all over the place. They..." He looked down at his blood-smeared shirt. "...make a mess."

Blizzard looked so pitiful. He could feel his eyes moistening. The Head of IAB wasn't supposed to cry over an annoying little cat.

"I might be in the morgue right now if it weren't for you. Nobody ever laid down their lives for me. Not even another cop. Look at you." He leaned closer and stroked her ears. "As a police officer, I always knew I might have to put my life on the line. You're just a cat. Why'd you do that?"

Quietly the tech stepped in. "Officer Stetler? Would you like to see the babies?"

Rick furrowed his eyebrows. "What babies?"

"You mean you didn't know?"

Rick shook his head and shrugged. "Know what?"

"She was pregnant."

Rick had no words. He just looked at her.

"Wait here."

In the cold silence, Rick looked at her bandaged girth. "That's why you were so hungry all the time. So you were gonna be a mom, but you protected _me_."

She slipped through the door again, carrying in her arms a silver box the size of Blizzard's carrier. Rick stood up to help her. "Oh, no, thank you. I've got it." Gingerly she set it down on the floor between them. "It was touch and go for a while, but we managed to save all four." With a smile she opened the lid.

Inside the lighted incubator were four tiny, squirming kittens. Two were gray, one was ginger, and another was white like its mother. They were so tiny, he thought, squirming, bobbing and feeling out the world on their wobbly little legs. Rick smiled as he reached down and touched each one gently with his finger. Their new fur felt so soft, so warm. They bobbed their tiny heads and squealed at his touch, eager to know what was invading their new world. But then he sat up and looked up at their mother. She still lay there, eyes closed, never moving.

"They should be with their mother" he lamented.

The tech nodded sadly. "I know. These and the abuse cases are the worst things I ever see. It's tough to see a mom who's too sick to nurse her babies."

"They're cute."

"So Blizzard belongs to you?" she asked hesitantly, closing the incubator again.

"Kind of."

"Well, I guess that makes you a daddy" she whispered with a smile. "Congratulations."

In his sleepiness, Rick looked up at her. "Huh? I didn't do it!"

She burst out laughing. "I'm sure it was another cat, Mr. Stetler. Dr. Hughes delivered them by C section. He estimates they're about two weeks premature. They're old enough to survive, but they'll have to stay in an incubator. "

Absentmindedly he stroked the mother cat's head. "So what happens now?"

"Well, I understand Blizzard's legally orphaned now. If she lives, unless someone adopts her, she'll be transferred to the county animal shelter."

"What about the expert witness program?"

"I have her chart up at the desk. Dr. Hughes disqualified her when he found out she was pregnant." She smiled a little. "Pregnant women kind of act funny, and they might say she was acting irrational."

Rick sniffed. "And the kittens?"

"Animal shelter. Legally they're strays."

He knew what that meant. They would most likely be euthanized.

"You didn't tell me your name."

"I'm sorry. My name's Sandi."

"Sandi? Sergeant Rick Stetler. I want to adopt Blizzard and the kittens."

She turned her head. "All five of them? Sergeant Stetler—"

"Rick."

"That's a lot of work. Blizzard's going to need post-op care for at least the next four weeks, if she lives."

"Please stop saying 'If she lives.'"

"And taking care of premature kittens is a full-time job. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Rick nodded again as he rubbed Blizzard's forehead again. "She saved my life, Sandi. Besides, I think I could use a little vacation."


	15. Loose Ends

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15—Loose Ends<strong>

Steven French sat at the interrogation table across from Horatio and Delko. He had his head down. His wavy red hair was mussed up from being in holding. He sported a white flex bandage on his hand where Blizzard had bitten him. The young woman who sat next to him had straight black hair that curved to the shoulders of her gray suit. Though she was still in her thirties, her face was heavily made up, perhaps to hide the years of stress that being a litigation attorney had brought on. She watched expectantly as Horatio sat down, laying every detail out. Delko stood against the wall, his arms folded.

"So how does it feel to be on the other side, Mr. French?" Horatio nearly growled.

The woman touched French's arm. "Don't answer that! Lieutenant Caine, you already have it in your mind that my client is guilty, don't you?"

"Ma'am, he's a suspect in at least one murder, and the attempted murder of an MDPD officer."

"Are you talking about Sergeant Stetler?"

"I am."

"I have yet to see any airtight evidence for what the County's charging him with. And furthermore, I'm concerned about that cat the sergeant's been keeping."

"Really? How so?"

"My client tells me that when he walked in to check on Sergeant Stetler, the cat attacked him, biting him on his left hand for which he needed emergency treatment. I understand this cat has a habit of attacking people. In fact it attacked another police officer—"

"An imposter who broke into Sergeant Stetler's house!" Delko insisted. Horatio put up his hand.

The woman didn't flinch. "I don't know what you call that in the MDPD, but in the real world, we call that a dangerous animal." She motioned to his bandaged hand. "I plan to petition the County not only to get these charges thrown out, but to see about having this animal quarantined permanently."

"How do you figure?"

The woman opened her black folder. "My copy of the cat's veterinary charts. Nowhere can I find any evidence that the cat's rabies shots are current, a requirement for any animals owned in Dade County."

"She's under Sergeant Stetler's charge pending Dean Cresswell's murder trial."

"Is Sergeant Stetler the legal owner of the cat?"

"As the one in charge of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, I've put him in charge of the cat because the Dade County Animal Shelter is full, and also because the cat responds to him. She was a candidate as an animal witness—"

Without another word the woman placed another piece of paper on the table. "She was disqualified by Dr. Leland Hughes when he was found out she was pregnant."

"That wasn't known or revealed until last night when he delivered her kittens. We rushed her to the animal hospital when she got shot by Steven French."

"He tells me he was defending himself."

"With a nine millimeter? Against a cat?" Delko sneered.

"Dr. Wendy Reese had documented her findings before she died. The cat was declined as a candidate for the animal witness program."

Horatio and Delko paused. They hadn't received Dr. Reese's findings. The woman leaned forward and nodded at him knowingly.

"Ma'am, those are records kept by another veterinarian" Horatio insisted. "Not available to Dr. Hughes."

The attorney almost smirked. "And the cat was under Sergeant Stetler's care. How could he have missed something as obvious as a pregnancy?"

Delko took a deep breath. Another one of those win-at-all-costs lawyers, he thought. "Sergeant Stetler took this cat in so she wouldn't be killed. Not that you'd care about something like that. And last night she saved his life from Steven French here!"

"The cat attacked him!" The woman ignored his tone as she handed Horatio a folded piece of paper. Horatio had seen enough of these to know what it was.

"A warrant?"

"The cat's going into protective custody pending another examination. If we find that it's dangerous, then it'll be destroyed." She stood up as the guard stepped in to cuff Detective French. "Oh, and if you have nothing more than a biting cat, I'm afraid we're done here."

Delko held his head down and tightened his lips. Horatio couldn't take his eyes off the injunction. Both of them knew the truth.

"What are we gonna do?" Delko demanded, pointing to the holding room.

"Here's what we're gonna do, Eric" he said, slowly and deliberately. "We still have Dean Cresswell's testimony. That should be more than enough to charge Steven French."

"Yeah, but Blizzard?" Delko shook his head. Neither one was a fan of Rick Stetler, but everyone knew what had happened. "I mean, H, she saved his life."

"Yes, Eric."

"I mean, I'm not a cat lover, but after we get the chips out of her, the County's gonna put her down. You know that!"

"I do. So you, Mr. Wolfe, and Mr. Cooper are going to have to call in some favors. Meanwhile, I'm going down to the County lockup and get Mr. Cresswell's testimony as soon as possible."

* * *

><p>Dean Cresswell sat on the floor of his cell, his hands folded over his knees, as he stared at the empty Styrofoam tray on the floor. He had eaten every bite of the meat loaf, mashed potatoes and beans that had once been there. For the days he had been in PC, he had little desire to do anything but just sit on the floor and stare out through the wired window in his cell. He'd heard all the colorful comments about his being in protective custody. But no matter. Word had gotten out that Steven French had been arrested and had lawyered up, but at least he was somewhere else. It didn't matter where. Just as long as it was a place where he couldn't do anymore damage to his life.<p>

Horatio paced quickly down the bleak halls of the County lockup, ignoring the stares, whistles and catcalls of the other inmates through the locked doors. At least in PC things were much more controlled. He had helped to put some of these men away, and that thought was never far from his mind.

Dean suddenly felt a strange tightness in his chest, almost as though someone was holding a blowtorch to his skin. Panic began to set in as he could feel his heart race. He stiffened up and tried to take deep breaths, but he could feel his throat tightening. He grabbed his throat and leaned against the brown door, slapping it, hoping the guard would come.

Nothing.

"He doesn't come out of his pod much, Lieutenant" the guard said matter-of-factly. "In fact, he's allowed out after lunch, but he just kind of stays in there all the time now."

Horatio glanced down at his microcassette recorder. "I just need to talk with him for a few minutes."

_SLAP! SLAP!_

Horatio and the guard both stopped. "Where's that coming from?"

Both the guard and Horatio stopped immediately. "Five. That's Cresswell!" Neither one had to say anything as they bolted down the hall. The guard fumbled for his keys while Horatio stood just clear of the door. Curious faces peeked out of their windows.

His body convulsed and his mind went blank. He could feel himself sweating, like he was going to cook in his own skin. He craned his neck, desperate to get any air. He could feel his throat and his tongue swell as his ears rung. More weakly now, he slapped the door again, leaning his head against it. Sweat and saliva began to pool on the floor next to him.

The guard held his shoulder radio to his mouth. "Officer needs assistance in PC! Got an inmate down! Code One!"

Horatio scrambled in and laid the convulsing, confused man out on his back, turning his head to the side. "Dean? Son?" He looked to the door. "Anaphylactic shock!"

Nothing but the deafening ringing in his ears. Dean Cresswell saw stars. Then darkness.

Horatio could hear the footsteps up the hallway as Dean Cresswell now lay still. His tongue was swollen in his mouth, and his eyes were open. With his fingers, he closed the wide, scared, confused eyes and then sat up.

Medics appeared at the door, hovering over him.

"He's gone" Horatio told them. "Note date and time." He dipped his head. There was no way this could have been an accident. "How did this happen?"

The dumbfounded guard shook his head. "I don't know, Lieutenant." His eyes fell on the Styrofoam tray on the floor. "He must have had a food allergy he didn't tell us about."

"I'm getting my kit. I need to bag that food tray and send it to my Trace lab."

"Go ahead."

"And I need to know who served his lunch. Because if we don't find out what happened, a cop killer is gonna walk."


	16. Twenty Four

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: Contains minor spoilers for "From the Grave"**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16—Twenty-Four<strong>

As Calleigh and Horatio chatted in the blue hallway, both of them noticed State Attorney Rebecca Nevins walking toward them from the elevator. Horatio dipped his head slightly. He hadn't forgotten that he'd shared some of his deepest secrets with her. "Miss Nevins."

She slowed down, standing at a distance. "Lieutenant Caine." She shook her head slightly as she handed Horatio the brown case folder.

He knew what that meant as he held out his hand. "The French case?"

"No go. Can only hold him for another twenty-four hours. That hotshot lawyer's playing politics with the Miami Brass. She sure knows how to work the system."

"Miss Nevins. When Frank and I came into Sergeant Stetler's residence, Sergeant Stetler was holding him down. He had shot the cat Sergeant Stetler was guarding."

She shrugged matter-of-factly. "I believe you. But Stephanie Weller is insisting that it's yours and Tripp's words against his. French is claiming the cat attacked him when he came in to check on Sergeant Stetler, and now she's plastering it all over the news. The cat was disqualified as an animal witness, and now the Brass is wondering why they had the head of IAB guarding a cat in the first place."

"We're playing against a pro, aren't we?" Calleigh said.

"And with Dean Cresswell in the morgue, I'd say you're fresh out of evidence to charge him." The brown-haired attorney glanced behind her. "I don't know, but between you and me, maybe you better take a closer look at that attorney. Now she's talking about countersuing the department on Detective French's behalf. She's taking French's case on contingency. Guess she couldn't wait to get it all at once."

"Sounds like either she's trying to make a name for herself, or she's got something to hide" Horatio observed.

"Maybe both. I checked with some of my colleagues at the Florida Bar, and they tell me she's pretty new to the field of Criminal Litigation. Something about her just stinks."

"The guilty dog always barks the loudest, Miss Nevins" Horatio growled. "And she's determined to have a mother cat put down for being a dangerous animal."

"Twenty-four hours till his hearing, Horatio. Otherwise I have to cut him loose and your department's gonna have to restore him to his rank and deal with the consequences."

"And what about Blizzard?"

Rebecca Nevins lowered her eyes. In her line of work, she wasn't used to protecting a stray cat. But everyone knew that the politicians could be more dangerous than the criminals. If the news of a mother cat being euthanized in the name of justice were to get out, every animal rights group in Florida might descend on the city of Miami and make life more than difficult.

"I'll talk to the judge that issued the injunction. But if we can't find any evidence that Blizzard didn't attack Steven French and Dean Cresswell, I'm afraid she's gonna be destroyed."

Both Calleigh and Horatio just looked at her. They knew the truth.

The attorney just shook her head slowly. "Give me something solid to go on, and I'll do the rest. Till then." With that she walked away.

"I will, Miss Nevins. You can count on that."

Calleigh stood behind Horatio as he bowed his head and fingered the case file.

"That guy can't walk, Horatio."

"And he's not going to."

"We couldn't find any evidence linking French to Walter Mullinax's murder. We tried. No prints, no casings, nothing to match Dean Cresswell's story about leaving his weapon there."

The Lieutenant raised his head with a resolve. "Then we'll find evidence to link him to Rick's attempted murder." He turned and faced her thoughtfully. "Here's what I need you to do. We're gonna go back to Rick's house, back to that crime scene, and make sure we have everything. Calleigh, no detail is too small. You take as many people over there as you have to."

"We only have twenty-four hours" she thought aloud.

"And that's why this is going to be the only case we work today."

"We'll get right on it" she promised.

"Oh, and Calleigh. I want you to call your father. We may need to do a little investigative work on Stephanie Weller."

"I'll let him know."

* * *

><p>Alexx Woods looked down at the young, pale body on the table. The swelling in his face and mouth had gone back to nearly normal now.<p>

"What did you find, Alexx?" Horatio asked through the mike.

She looked up toward the viewing area. "Just what I thought, Horatio. Hypoxia caused by the anaphylactic shock. His liver temp at TOD was a hundred and six. He just about burned alive in his own skin."

"Tox panel?"

"Valera analyzed the stomach contents. Casein. Very high levels of it."

"Did Dean Cresswell have a milk allergy?"

"Wasn't noted anywhere in his medical records. People often mistake a casein allergy to lactose intolerance or a milk allergy. Casein is found in any milk protein. His blood had high levels of casein antibodies, but the casein in his stomach content was so high there was no way he could have fended it off."

"So somebody else in the prison knew he had an allergy."

"Was a mild one at that. But these levels are off the chart, Horatio. High levels of any kind of protein can be dangerous, but in someone who already has some kind of allergy, well, it looks like it didn't take long." She glanced down at his sleeping face again. "I suspect it only took a few minutes. Got all the classic symptoms. Anaphylactic shock, elevated heart rate and temperature. There was lactose in the mashed potatoes, but the casein was about ten times what you'd see in any dairy product on the market."

"Or in a prison diet, Alexx. I think it's time to talk with the prison staff."

* * *

><p>There was a heaviness in the break room as Ryan glared at the TV set and fingered his roast beef sandwich.<p>

"Hey Wolfe, your girlfriend's on!" Delko quipped as he walked behind him.

"She's not my girlfriend!" he spat. "Never was!"

Delko stood behind him now and popped open his soda can with a hiss. "Yeah? Had me fooled."

"_This is Erica Sykes for CVS here in Miami. In a shocking turn of events, Miami-Dade PD have arrested one of their own in a case of suspected identity theft and at least one count of attempted murder. We caught up with Stephanie Weller who is the defense attorney for Steven French. _

The woman stood proudly and confidently as her eyes swept the field of reporters.

"_The Miami-Dade PD has no evidence that my client committed any of these crimes."_

"_Miss Weller, is it true Steven French tried to kill a fellow MDPD officer?"_

"_That's what they'd like you to believe. The truth is, my client is being railroaded." She raised her head confidently. "I'm sure that in the coming days you'll find out that Detective French will have justice! That's all I have to say right now! Thank you very much!" With that she disappeared past the sea of cameras, recorders and microphones, waving her arm dismissively. _

The blonde-haired reporter smiled pleasantly as she turned from her mirror. "Well, look who came back from the dead. I thought you never wanted to talk to me again."

Ryan looked guardedly at the reporter. "Actually, I didn't."

"Are you still mad about the dirty bomb scare?"

"Why? Just because you breached my trust? Caused a whole city to go into a panic? Compromised an investigation? How could anybody possibly be mad about that?"

"Hey, you know I'm just doing my job. Besides, you still owe me a recorder."

"That was a long time ago, Erica. I see you're still keeping score of who owes you what."

Erica Sykes turned her attention back to the mirror. "What do you want?"

"I need a favor."

She turned around and sniffed. "I'd say your favors are all used up."

"Since you say it's your job to find out the truth, why don't you do a little digging on Stephanie Weller?"

"What are you saying?"

Ryan looked down. He'd been burned by this woman before. "Look, all I'm gonna say is, there's a cat in the Flagler Animal Hospital that we think saved Rick Stetler's life. That lawyer bitch is working the case."

With a shrug, Erica turned back to her mirror and primped her hair. "So what do I get? Dinner?"

"Yeah. But just dinner!"

"What if I want more?"

Ryan scowled at her. "What if I were to go to the local bloggers and they were to let the whole city know that you couldn't be bothered finding out the truth? I know you've heard of the new media. And what if it came out that CVS let a mother cat die in an animal shelter?"

Erica Sikes snickered. "You can't believe everything you read."

"Or everything you hear on TV."

The reporter looked in the mirror again. She could see in her own eyes. He had her right where he wanted her. Those damned bloggers could be the death of her and her journalistic career, and she knew it. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."


	17. Saving Face

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I hope you will keep the state of Alabama in your thoughts and prayers. David Lee Smith (Rick Stetler) hails from Birmingham, just one of many parts of Alabama that got pounded by all those tornadoes on April 27th.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17—Saving Face<strong>

Rick Stetler felt numb as he tickled Blizzard's pink pawpads with his finger. Just a couple of days ago, he thought, doing that would cause her to yank her paw back and glare at him. Now she just lay still on the table, her paw flopping back down under her. Nothing. No purring, no scratching, no meowing, no digging around in the cat food. Just the hissing of the little oxygen mask and the _BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_ of the heart monitor. The folded copy of the court injunction was still in his back pocket. Softly, slowly, his fingers touched her pink ears, then rubbing the top of her head. Human or feline, he loved her. He owed her his life.

Slowly, silently, Sandi slipped in the door. "How are you holding up, Rick?"

"Fine." With his bloodshot eyes he motioned toward Blizzard. "Not sure about her, though."

She pulled up a rolling stool next to him and sat down. "I'm really sorry."

Rick just rested on his arm and ran his slender finger over her head. "You know, of all my years on the force, this is all I ever wanted."

"A cat?"

"Blizzard and the kittens need me to protect them. Keep them safe. You know, protect and serve. Not push paper."

"You know, you should probably get something to eat."

"She might wake up."

"She's on a lot of pain killers."

"They can't euthanize her."

Sandi gently put a hand on his shoulder. Rick turned toward her. "Look Rick, I'm sure your people are working on it. Have you eaten anything since last night?"

"Not really."

"If you want, one of us can bring you back a sandwich. What do you say?"

"I'd really like that."

Before either one knew what was happening, Sandi reached up and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. With his free hand he reached up and put his hand over hers. "Thanks."

"When you say Blizzard kept you from getting shot, I believe you. I'm sure your team's working hard to find something."

"I bet most of them would like to see me dead" he sniffed.

"Now that's not true!" she said indignantly.

He lifted his head and faced her with weary eyes. "You don't get it. I'm the head of IAB. They hate me. Blizzard didn't care who I was. I yelled at her for messing up my house, and she always came back and loved on me."

The large veterinary tech nodded knowingly. "The unconditional love a pet gives you."

He ran his hands along her smooth fur now. "I don't have any real friends."

"You're talking about her like she's already gone."

"I know these politicians." Rick hated to admit it, but the team somehow always managed to win. "Is she still critical?"

"Technically. Her body hasn't rejected the blood we gave her, but Dr. Hughes wants to be on the safe side." She let go of him and stood up.

"Where are you going, Sandi?" he asked, his head down.

"My shift is starting. Rick, you didn't say what kind of sandwich you wanted."

Rick took his hand off Blizzard's head and dug into his pocket. Sandi put up her hand. "Uh uh! My treat. I insist."

The IAB agent was too tired to resist. "Thanks. Roast beef on whole wheat and sweet tea?"

"We'll take care of it" she assured him with a smile.

* * *

><p>"Never thought I'd have to sniff Stetler's clothes" Ryan quipped as he bagged the rumpled clothes that Rick had slept in.<p>

"Well, we have to find anything we can" Natalia said as her brown eyes scanned the walls for anything. "GSR swab's not gonna help. Not for any of this. We gotta prove some other way that French tried to kill him."

* * *

><p>"Where do you want Oscar, Calleigh?" Frank grunted as he struggled in with the brown mannequin.<p>

Calleigh clicked off her flashlight and stood up. "Right where you saw French standing when you guys came in. I marked the spot where the round went into the mattress." Frank set the brown mannequin at the edge of the mattress while Calleigh fixed a laser pointer into the hole where the round had gone. The red beam shone across the room. "Now pose Oscar the way you saw him holding French down. Line it up with the laser."

Frank dipped his head to remember. He then leaned forward and bent the mannequin.

Calleigh sat on the mattress. "Okay, now I'll be Stetler. Show me how he was."

"On his knees in the middle of the bed, about a foot away from where Blizzard was lying. We heard the gunshot about three seconds before we came in the door. Stetler had his hand around French's wrist."

Calleigh moved to the middle of the mattress on her knees, holding her arms out as though to choke someone. "Classic struggle."

"And his left arm around French's neck."

Calleigh leaned forward and wrapped her arm around the mannequin's neck and held the arm with her hand. "Like this?"

"Yeah. And French had his head turned to the side."

The blonde CSI thought for a moment. "Head turned to the side, Stetler had his wrist up. French was definitely trying to break free, whereas if French was trying to protect him like he says, he would have had his head down. If he had his head down, he wouldn't have understood why Stetler was holding him, but with his head turned to the side, he knew why he was being held down."

"Try telling that to that lawyer babe" Frank smirked.

Calleigh handed Oscar back to Frank and stood up again, dusting herself off. "It is gonna be a long shot. But it's all we've got."

* * *

><p>Natalia opened the lab door, a smile on her face.<p>

"Dr. Hughes?"

The black-haired, bespectacled veterinarian stood in the doorway. "Good afternoon. This lady said I could find you here."

Ryan nodded. "Come on in."

His eyes scanned the room as he stepped carefully. "I may be able to help."

"Help with what?" Calleigh asked.

"I think I can do what Blizzard couldn't."

All of the CSI's watched him hopefully. The veterinarian could see that they were out of options. "I'll need the clothes Rick Stetler was wearing that night."

Delko patted the bag with his gloved hand. "Right here, Sir."

"And the sheets that were on the bed."

"You got it" Ryan said. "Okay. Who wants to bag and tag Stetler's bedding?"

"And the use of your lab."

"Steven French's hearing is tomorrow. Think you can have everything ready by then?" Calleigh asked.

"Only if I can get your help."

* * *

><p>Ryan kept his face hidden in the open menu. No telling who else might be watching. He took a sip of his ice water and glanced around.<p>

Erica Sykes sauntered up to the table in her usual fashion in that smart blue pantsuit.

"I see you kept your promise" Ryan said matter-of-factly, his face still in the menu.

She tightened her lip smugly. "And I see you kept yours, even though I think this should be worth a lot more."

He slowly put the menu on the table and held out his hand. "Let's see it."

She held the printouts to her chest and looked around. "Come on, Ryan! A bar and grill? This is worth a hell of a lot more than burgers!"

"How do I know that? And this is just the first payment in advance."

Slowly she slid the paper toward him on the table. As he reached for it, she snatched it back. "Silver Palm?"

"Come on, Erica!"

She laid the printouts on the table. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he snatched them up and scanned them.

"Told you. Silver Palm!"

Ryan shook his head slowly as he peeled one page back, then the next. "How'd you find all this?"

"Sources."

He leveled his eyes at her. "What _kind_ of sources?"

"What do you care?"

He folded the papers up as he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Yeah, H? Wolfe. Got something. We gotta talk. It's about Stephanie Weller. See you back at the lab in a few minutes." With that he snapped his cell phone shut. "I gotta go. Thanks."

The stunned reporter held her hands up. "Hey! I thought—"

Unfazed, Ryan dropped a twenty on the table. "And I gotta save somebody's life."

"What about—"

He shoved his wallet back into his pocket as he started for the door. "You have my number! Take a rain check!"


	18. Proud Papa

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18—Proud Papa<strong>

"Here they are" Sandi whispered, setting the silver incubator down on the floor and opening the lid. Rick had been watching over Blizzard, caressing her fur, watching her, studying her for the third evening in a row. Now he leaned down to see her babies.

"Which one do you want to see?" she asked.

The big, tough, intimidating IAB agent didn't want to admit it, but there was just something about those, helpless, squirming, squeaking kittens, all scrambling for their food, and maybe some comfort in this big world.

"Which one do you want?" Sandi whispered.

"Why don't you pick one for me?"

"I'll let you hold the little girl." She carefully scooped up the pink and white squealing kitten and laid it to his chest. With both his hands he cradled the tiny ball of fur. Her paws were so small and flat, like tiny pink paddles. Her pink ears were round. Her eyes were still closed. She bobbed her head up and down, sniffing and squeaking. Rick smiled. "Look at her." With one hand he stroked her head.

"Very, very gently" Sandi urged. She reached behind her. "Here. Hold her in this." She slipped a raggedy looking blue towel around the kitten. Her tiny head bobbed, but this made her seem to settle down. "It feels like her mother. Also keeps her warm. With preemies you have to be careful about body temperature."

"Well here. Let's try this." Gently Rick put the kitten down just inches from her mother. She frantically sniffed the air and bobbed her head, inching on her belly toward her mother. Blizzard still lay on her side, her eyes still closed, never moving. Rick shook his head.

"She knows Blizzard's her mother, but the smell of the medicine's confusing her" Sandi explained. Both watched as the bobbing kitten inched closer to Blizzard's bandaged girth. With both hands Rick wrapped her in the towel and cradled her again.

"I'm afraid Blizzard might reject them" Sandi said. "Mother cats will reject their litters for any number of reasons. Chances are higher when we deliver by C section. She can't lactate as it is. We had to pump her full of hormones to dry up her milk so she can heal."

"Who's feeding them?"

With a smile she held up a small syringe. "Well, that's where I was hoping _you_ could help. I figure eventually you're gonna need to learn how to bottle-feed your new babies."

All of a sudden, Rick wasn't feeling too comfortable with the promise he made about being responsible for their lives. "Well, I…."

"It's really easy. I'll show you with the little redhead. You thought of names for them yet?"

"No."

Gently she picked up the squirming, squeaking ginger kitten. "Oh, by the way, three boys and a girl. Just hold the towel over your hand, like this. Then let the kitten rest in it. See that? He smells food." She turned her head down toward the flailing kitten. "And then just rub the nipple on his lip, and he'll grab on. There we go! Aw, Horatio's a hungry little angel, isn't he?"

"Horatio?" Rick sneered.

"I couldn't help but notice Horatio Caine, that redheaded officer who came in with you. It looks like you two are close. How about we name you Horatio?" she said to the suckling kitten.

"How about we not?" Rick said sourly.

"Huh?"

The thought of even a helpless kitten named Horatio living under Rick's roof was just a little too much for him. "Look, could we name her, him—"

"Him."

"Something else?"

"How about Mister Ginger?"

"Fine." A little on the corny side, but at least it wasn't his rival.

Sandi then handed him a tiny syringe. Rick couldn't help but smile as the white kitten grabbed onto the nipple with its tiny mouth, sucking furiously. "She needs me" he said.

"They all will."

The tiny white kitten was suckling loudly, pawing Rick's fingers as milk dribbled from her tiny pink mouth. Matter-of-factly Sandi reached back and handed him another towel. Gently he dabbed her mouth, not even bothered that milk was dribbling down onto the leg of his black workout pants.

"I think you're getting the hang of this, Rick. You're gonna make a good daddy" Sandi said with a smile in her voice.

"I can only feed one at a time, can't I?"

"Unfortunately. But I'll help you whenever I can."

Slowly his tired green eyes met hers. "Thanks." Absentmindedly he looked over to Blizzard, who had still been lying on the table. "Hey!"

Blizzard's blue eyes were open. She seemed to be watching them.

"Well! Look who's awake" Sandi said as she shifted in the chair. "Sorry, Little Guy. I'm gonna have to check your mommy, and then maybe Daddy can feed you." Very carefully she took the nipple out of the white kitten's mouth. Obviously not happy about having his dinner interrupted, he squealed and pawed the air. "Oh, yes, I know. But right now I have to check your mommy."

Blizzard still lay on her side, her blue eyes fixed on Rick and Sandi. Carefully Sandi unstrapped the small oxygen mask. The white cat took a breath.

"She's breathing on her own. That's a good sign."

Rick smiled for the first time in several days. "That's great."

"Heart rhythm's good. I'll get the vet to check her serum levels, but I think she's gonna be all right."

* * *

><p>Calleigh strolled past the other patrons in the dimly-lighted bar, just like she had so many times before. Down to the end. Where her father liked to sit.<p>

Duke DuQuesne sat by himself, his straw hat resting on the bar. Silently he looked down at his Scotch and soda, not sure whether he should order another.

"Hi Dad."

A smile crossed his face as he looked up at his daughter. "Well! Lambchop! Look at you!"

"Did you get it?"

Duke hesitated for a moment.

"Dad?"

He patted the stool next to him. "Why don't you sit down, Lambchop? Let your dad buy you something. You been working much too hard lately. Why don't we just catch up?"

Calleigh stood with her hand over her purse strap. "You didn't answer my question."

There was a silence. Calleigh refused to be moved.

"I got it."

Calleigh motioned toward a table in the back. "Let's go sit over there in the corner."

Duke slowly and deliberately reached for his straw hat and his drink and got up off the bar stool. "I can do that for my little girl." With his daughter he waded through the patrons and the tables to the dark table in the back corner, lighted only by the Budweiser sign overhead.

"Now Calleigh" he said. "You sure you want to get mixed up in this?"

She glanced around. Satisfied that nobody was watching or listening, she leaned in. "Dad?"

"Okay. Talked to the Florida Bar this morning. Old friend of mine helped me out. Calleigh, if word gets out, there could be trouble." He reached into the waist pocket of his white jacket and laid some folded papers down next to his drink. Calleigh unfolded them and scanned them. "Stephanie Weller. Former U.S. Attorney. Nee Stephanie Donovan." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Any relation to Byron Donovan, the senior partner over at Donovan Casey?"

"She's his daughter."

"Wonder why she decided not to hang onto her father's coattails. She's sure trying to make a name for herself on this case."

Duke shook his head. "Calleigh, you know I'd do anything for you. But this is pretty big. Byron Donovan?"

"Dad" she insisted. "Ryan Wolfe got some evidence from a close contact. We knew something about this woman didn't pass the smell test."

"I know, but—"

"Remember that DUI a few years ago?"

The Louisiana attorney thumbed his hat nervously. If it weren't for Ryan, he might be rotting in a prison cell right now, and he knew it. "All right. But listen, Calleigh. We never talked."

Like the Southern Belle she was at heart, Calleigh lowered her head and smiled. "Of course not. Thanks, Dad. See you there in the morning?"

Duke smiled sadly. "Bright and early, Lambchop."


	19. Cat Fight

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: This scene will be spread out over 2 chapters. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19—Cat Fight<strong>

Calleigh let out a deep breath and glanced at the clock.

"Heard anything from your father yet?" Horatio whispered to her.

"He'll be here." Her voice then trailed off. "He said he would." Her father was running awfully late, she thought. No phone calls. Nothing. Experience taught her that he was probably in that bar again, lubricating his nerves, hiding from the higher-ups at the Florida Bar Association. Her father was such a good-hearted Southern gentleman, always wanting to do right by his Lambchop. But it seemed like when push came to shove, the alcohol always won.

_Come on, Dad! Show up! You can do this! Please don't be at the bar. _

Horatio glanced at Stephanie Weller, who glanced back at him. The defense lawyer then brushed off the sleeve of her gray power suit more as a signal to him that she wouldn't be intimidated.

"Is Mr. DuQuesne here?"

Horatio and Calleigh glanced up just in time to see an anxious Rebecca Nevins. She scowled at them as she held a case folder.

"Miss Nevins, just trust me."

"He'll be here" Calleigh assured him.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge James Moriarty! All those having business with this court, come forth, and you shall be heard!"

Instantly everyone rose to their feet. In the silence, the gray-haired man stepped up to his bench, his flowing black robes surrounding him as he sat down. "Be seated." As everyone settled back down again, Judge Moriarty put on his glasses and glanced down.

"In the matter of Case Number FL336658, The People of the State of Florida vs Steven French, the Court will determine whether there is enough evidence to formally indict the accused of First Degree Attempted Murder and Second Degree Animal Cruelty. Is the accused present?"

Stephanie Weller rose smartly to her feet. "The accused is present, Your Honor."

"Pertaining to the Second Degree Animal Cruelty case, it's been brought to my attention that the Defense has hereby filed a motion to have said cat exterminated as a dangerous animal. Prosecution, how do you respond?"

Rebecca Nevins stood up. "Your Honor, I present a motion to dismiss the claim that said animal, a Russian white cat by the name of Blizzard, is a dangerous animal. There are two instances in which Blizzard has been known to bite a human being, and in both instances she was acting in defense of her owner. In the first instance the cat bit Dean Cresswell when Mr. Cresswell had forced his way into Police Sergeant Rick Stetler's residence."

"This has been proven?"

"It has, Your Honor. As you will see from the case history, Mr. Cresswell had been formally charged with First-Degree Breaking and Entering as well as two counts of Murder, Identity Theft, Trafficking Stolen Identities, and Impersonating a Miami-Dade Police Officer. Dean Cresswell has since died in holding under suspicious circumstances. However, Blizzard protected her handler, Sergeant Rick Stetler, a second time when Steven French, a detective with the Miami-Dade Police Department, tried to kill Sergeant Stetler and take Blizzard, and, in his own words, "dump her in the bay". She did bite Steven French's hand, but purely in defense of herself and her owner."

Stephanie Weller stood up forcefully. "Objection, Your Honor! The accused has not been officially arraigned, and words are hearsay from the witness."

Judge Moriarty paused for a moment. "Sustained. What's your objection, counselor?"

The young counselor nearly smiled as she stood before the court. "Your Honor, The Miami-Dade Police appointed Sergeant Rick Stetler as a guardian over said animal, rather than keeping her in custody at the local animal control. Also, as noted in my motion, there is no evidence that this cat has had the necessary immunizations. There are no records of rabies or distemper vaccinations as required by Florida state law."

"Prosecution?"

"Your Honor, Dr. Leland Hughes, an animal behavioral specialist, will attest to the circumstances of Sergeant Stetler keeping Blizzard. Bear in mind that Blizzard was being kept as a material witness to the murder of Walter Mullinax. Information about the cat's pregnancy and therefore dismissal as a material witness had not reached my office until after the accused had allegedly shot her. Your Honor, concerning the cat's fitness to not be destroyed, I'd like to call Doctor Leland Hughes to the stand."

As Dr. Hughes took the stand, Calleigh quickly glanced back at the door. He wasn't here yet.

"Dr. Hughes, state your occupation for the court."

"I'm a veterinarian and animal behavioral specialist."

"As such, what do you do?"

"In addition to veterinary duties, I examine the psyche of domestic animals, most specifically dogs and cats, to determine whether they're psychologically fit for adoption or whether they're psychologically fit for companionship or for criminal or civil testimony." He paused. "I also make determinations whether an animal is considered legally dangerous or not, in this case a Russian white cat named Blizzard."

"Dr. Hughes, based on the evidence, would you consider Blizzard to be a dangerous animal?" Rebecca Nevins asked.

There was silence.

"No I would not."

"And how did you arrive at that conclusion, Dr. Hughes? The Defense maintains that this cat has a history of biting and vicious behavior."

"That evidence is purely circumstantial."

"Now, first things first. Would you maintain that the cat should have been inoculated before being in Sergeant Stetler's custody?"

"No. Under the State of Florida it would be desirable but not necessary."

"Explain, please."

"I gave Blizzard a thorough physical examination the night she was shot in the abdomen. I delivered her premature kittens by C section, and then I checked the rest of her. I took prints of her teeth and her pawpads. They are as good as human fingerprints. I also took a sample of her cord blood. The State of Florida doesn't require immunizations in domestic animals less than three years old. While there is no way to tell exactly how old Blizzard is, by the condition of her teeth and bones, I confirmed that she is approximately two years old. Also, if she were positive for rabies or distemper, symptoms would have shown up in the victims by now."

"The court will take this under consideration" Judge Moriarty said. "Are you saying this cat has kittens?"

"Yes, Your Honor. The fact that she's even alive is a miracle. Steven French's bullet passed between her uterus and her stomach, narrowly missing any major organs. While she did bleed internally, I was able to save all four kittens."

Rebecca Nevins and Dr. Hughes looked around the courtroom. There would be sympathy for Blizzard.

"Your Honor" she continued, "Dr. Hughes has also collected forensic evidence, with the help of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab to prove that not only was Blizzard protecting her owner, but also that she was reacting to the accused's attempt to murder Sergeant Rick Stetler."

Stephanie Weller shot up from her chair. "Objection! Speculation!"

The judge leaned his face on his fingers thoughtfully. "I'd like to hear this, Miss Nevins. Dr. Hughes."

"Your Honor, as an animal behavioral specialist, I can tell you that animals give off certain hormones through their perspiration when they're feeling certain things. I did an analysis of the clothes and the sheets that Sergeant Stetler slept in the night of the incident. I also analyzed the fibers of the carpet where Blizzard was found when she bit Dean Cresswell."

"Let the record indicate that Dr. Hughes is referring to Exhibits A and B" Rebecca Nevins said aloud.

He slipped on his glasses. "With the help of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, in both cases I was able to time-lapse the hormones that Blizzard gave off. The paw pad prints match Blizzard's DNA. On the corner of the bed where Blizzard slept, she rubbed against Sergeant Stetler's sleeve, giving off what's known as the 'happy hormone.' Typically we would see a domestic cat rubbing against its owner. This indicates the cat to be happy and relaxed. Vicious cats don't exhibit this kind of behavior. I was able to determine that this behavior went on for about an hour, correlating with the time that Sergeant Stetler fell asleep. Then, through the perspiration from her pawpads, I was able to determine that Blizzard suddenly gave off the 'fear hormone', which immediately changed to normal feline adrenaline. This happened in the span of about ten seconds. Those pawprints paced forward, putting more pressure on the toes, indicating that Blizzard was crouching and in attack mode. I also picked up feline saliva, indicating that Blizzard hissed as a warning. When cats hiss, they perceive a clear threat. These were the only instances I could find of Blizzard hissing, whereas with a vicious cat, there would be many instances. It's interesting to note that Sergeant Stetler also felt fear, as the sweat from his clothes indicated human adrenaline. Cats who are emotionally attached to their owners will feel the same emotions as their owners. This is scientifically documented."

"So Dr. Hughes" Rebecca Nevins said, "Are you telling us that Blizzard is a normal cat that acted out of self defense when she and her keeper were threatened?"

"Yes."

There was silence.

"Counsel?"

Stephanie Weller clearly hadn't expected this. "I have no questions, Your Honor."

"Your Honor, the State pleads for a stay to euthanize Blizzard until a motion to dismiss can be filed."

"Counsel?"

"No objections, Your Honor."

"Stay granted until motion can be filed. The cat has not been proven to be dangerous."

Calleigh and Horatio smiled, but behind that smile, Calleigh couldn't help the anxiety.

_Come on, Dad!_


	20. Identity

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: I want to again thank all of you for your reviews.  
>Special thanks to my dear hubby, a retired JAG sergeant, for advising me on this and the previous chapter. He not only prepped hundreds of courts-martial, he also sat through them. <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20—Identity<strong>

Stephanie Weller hid her disappointment at Judge Moriarty's decision to give Blizzard a stay. She nodded expectantly, giving the court the impression that she truly expected this maneuver, just like she had been taught.

"Does the State have any other witnesses?" the judge asked.

Rebecca Nevins hesitated. Her eyes fell on the courtroom doors in the back.

"Miss Nevins?"

Calleigh could feel pain in her heart. He'd let her down again.

"Miss Nevins! Does the State have any other witnesses?"

"We'll do something" Horatio whispered. He balled up his fist to keep from laying a hand on her sympathetically.

Everyone turned their heads as the courtroom door opened with a BANG!

"Your Honor, I do want to apologize for my lateness" a Southern drawl said.

Calleigh jerked her head up. He didn't let her down after all.

"State your business with this court, Sir" Judge Moriarty demanded, obviously not pleased with being interrupted.

Patting his black briefcase, Kenwall DuQuesne smiled. "Again, Sir, my name is Kenwall DuQuesne. I've been appointed the assistant attorney for the prosecution."

Rebecca Nevins cleared her throat. "That's my final witness, Your Honor!"

Calleigh's father gave her a knowing smile as he laid his briefcase on the table and walked up with some papers. "Your Honor, I represent the interests of the People of the State of Florida, and I'd like to present some evidence that has only now been brought to light. As a Florida barred attorney myself, I'd like to recommend that this preliminary hearing be suspended and new charges be filed against the defendant. Furthermore, I personally plan to bring charges of misconduct against the defense counsel."

"Counselor?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Stephanie Weller snapped, bolting to her feet. "None of this was revealed during the discovery phase! This is simply the State trying to stall!" But deep down she tried not to crane her neck to see what Duke was holding.

Judge Moriarty slowly turned to him. "Mr. DuQuesne, I'd like to remind you that Stephanie Weller is not the one on trial here. On what grounds are you basing these charges?"

Calleigh knew her father was hiding his fear. She smiled.

"If it please the court, I'd like to call Miss Stephanie Weller to the stand."

"Counselor?"

The brown-haired attorney smartly walked to the witness stand and took the oath. Duke DuQuesne approached the bench with printouts in his hand. "Your Honor, I recommend that the State move to suspend this preliminary hearing pending the charges of attorney misconduct. There's conflict of interest, disclosure, and general ethics violations unbecoming to the Florida State Bar and American Bar Association. In my hand I have emails that were traded between Stephanie Weller and a Thomas York of the Securities and Exchange Commission. I also have a certified copy of Stephanie Weller's official name change. I'd like to admit these documents as evidence to the court."

Judge Moriarty slipped on his glasses and scanned the printouts. "I'll allow this evidence" he said, now motioning toward the stand. "Your witness."

Duke handed Stephanie Weller and held some printouts to her. "Miss Weller, or should I say, Miss Donovan. Is that your signature right there?"

Color drained from the woman's face as she glanced up. She then glanced down at the paper just inches from her face.

"Answer the question, Counselor" the judge urged.

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Can you tell this court why you failed to disclose that, in 2006, when you worked for the U.S. Attorney's Office, you had violated federal SEC laws by buying one thousand shares of AMVW stock, seventy-two hours before it was made public that the company had a government contract? This constitutes at least one incident of insider trading and one incident of conflict of interest."

"I was never brought up on any charges!" she snapped.

"Could it be because your father, Byron Donovan, was the official in-house counsel for AMVW at that time? Your Honor, this is an email sent from the U.S. Attorney's office in Vienna, Virginia when Stephanie Weller was known as Stephanie Donovan. Shall I read this for the court?"

Judge Moriarty lowered his head and furrowed his eyebrows. This was all new. "State for the record, Mr. DuQuesne."

"Dated June of 2006. I quote. 'Bar Association HQ is recommending you take the package and disappear. If the media gets wind of this, we're screwed, and there will be hell to pay. Daddy can only help you so much.'"

Stephanie Weller had been digging her French-manicured nails into the oak table, but now she relaxed her fingers.

"Miss Weller, I think you better answer the question" the judge warned.

She drew a deep breath. "The shares of stock…were a gift from a friend." But she knew that it all looked suspicious.

Duke then held up another printout. "Your Honor, I'd like to read another email to Stephanie Donovan from Thomas York at an untraceable email address. Not a Washington address, but an untraceable email address that could have come from anywhere. The computer lab was able to confirm that this was delivered to Miss Weller from Thomas York."

"Go ahead, Mr. DuQuesne" the judge said flatly. "I think we're all a little curious."

"Dated December 2005. 'Confidential. AMVW was awarded the Middle Eastern theatre. Ten percent after sixty days.' May I remind this court that Thomas York is currently serving time in the federal system for insider trading and extortion. In other words, if Miss Weller here didn't pay him ten percent of what she made from her capital gains, he would have reported her. At the end of February, he received a wire transfer from Stephanie Donovan for fifty thousand dollars, exactly ten percent of what she made when her shares of AMVW went sky-high."

There was more silence. Calleigh folded her arms and smiled at her dad. Horatio couldn't help but smile too.

Judge Moriarty nodded and tightened his lips. "Miss Nevins?"

Rebecca Nevins had her eyes on Stephanie Weller, who now shifted uncomfortably on the witness stand. "Your Honor, the State moves to suspend this hearing pending a formal complaint against opposing counsel." She then looked at the dumbfounded Steven French. "Furthermore, in view of the charges against the defendant, the State moves to deny bail pending a new preliminary hearing and new counsel."

"Granted. Considering the charges, this court will hold the defendant Steven French without bail for forty-eight hours pending appointment of new counsel and sufficient evidence. This preliminary hearing is dismissed." With that he brought his gavel down.

Stephanie Weller wasted no time in leaving the courtroom, shielding her face from the cameras and the firestorm of questions as she walked out.

Horatio stood back and smiled as Calleigh hugged her father. "Aw, Dad, I knew you could do it!" She stood back and sampled the air.

"Ain't had a drink, Lambchop!" he said proudly. "Now I ain't saying I wasn't scared as hell up there."

"But you did it. I'm proud of you."

Duke just smiled. His little girl's approval meant the world to him.

"Well, Mr. DuQuesne" Horatio said. "I'm grateful for what you did today."

"Now, I didn't do much. You can thank that young fella in your computer lab."

Horatio cocked his head. "What young fella?"

"Dan Cooper?"

"That's him."

"I knew he was good for something!"

Duke shrugged. "He expedited the search. See Calleigh, that's what took me so long. Now after this I gotta run to the store and buy him a twelve pack. See? Your old dad still knows how to play politics." The Louisiana lawyer's face turned more serious now. "And then I guess I'm gonna have to deal with Donovan. He's got some foot soldiers."

Horatio stepped forward and put a firm hand on Duke's white-jacketed shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. DuQuesne. So do we."

Rebecca Nevins shook her head and smiled. "I owe you one, Mr. DuQuesne."

"Well now, young lady, I just had to do it for my little girl here."

"Dad!"

"But I'm warning you. Forty-eight hours is all we have, or this guy walks. Can we come up with more evidence than we have?"

"That other young fella in the lab?" Duke said.

"Tyler?" Horatio wanted to know.

"Yeah! That's him!"

Horatio dipped his head and put his hands on his hips. "Miss Nevins, we're going to need a warrant for Steven French's computer logs. I want everything. This guy's not gonna walk."

"You got it." With that she walked away.


	21. The Kindness of Strangers

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21—The Kindness of Strangers<strong>

It was eight in the morning on Saturday. Rick had a dish towel draped over his shoulder as he set the jar of warm milk down on the scratched end table, along with the medicine dropper. "Come on, Blizzard."

The cat had been lying on her side in the sheepskin bed, just waking up from her latest dose of Tramadol. Rick had taken the blue flex bandage off her abdomen so her scar could get some fresh air. White fur was beginning to grow around the red scar. The surgical glue had begun to slough off. He would rebandage her later.

Blizzard didn't resist as he lifted her head up and gently wrapped the old blue pool towel under and around her. "Up we go."

As he sat back in the brown chair, he cradled her like a newborn. Those blue eyes were open, but still distant from the Tramadol that Dr. Hughes had prescribed. He looked down on the cat who had saved his life a week earlier, who had friended him, who showed him a pet's unconditional love.

All the IAB agent could hear was the cat's quick, labored breathing as he looked around Sandi's small, modest living room. He had known her only for a week, yet she was willing to let him sleep on her living room couch while he cared for Blizzard and the kittens.

"You almost ready for your breakfast? Sandi's coming home with your kittens soon."

Gently he reached in with one finger and rubbed her between her pink ears. Normally she would have rolled over on her back and purred, wanting him to rub her belly, but now he had to cradle her like a baby while she looked away distantly, still healing from the surgery.

"Can't believe I didn't know why you were so big."

Exhaustion and sadness had set in. Normally careful about his appearance, he was wearing the same black tee shirt and workout pants that he had been wearing for days. He hadn't shaven, and his black hair began to poke out in odd directions. At the Miami-Dade Police Department's recommendation, he was staying somewhere away from his house until they could be sure of dealing with Steven French and Byron Donovan. Sandi had been nice enough to let him sleep on her couch while she worked the night shift and take care of Blizzard while she slept during the day. So many times he thought he'd understood how a crime victim might feel. But now he himself couldn't go home. That mattress with Blizzard's bloodstains still lay untouched. Dean Cresswell's bloodstains hadn't quite come out of his carpet. He hadn't had a chance to patch up that bullet hole from when Steven French tried to kill him. Rick picked up the medicine dropper and filled it with the warm milk.

_Mrrrm?_

Blizzard weakly pawed the air from inside the old blue towel. She seemed to come out of the trance of the pain killers and squirm to reach that medicine dropper.

"Stop squirming!"

He tilted her up and lowered the medicine dropper to her mouth. She reached up and sucked on the dropper, some milk running out of her mouth and onto the towel.

"Don't drink so fast! I don't need you puking on me!"

Rick sank more deeply into the chair and watched Blizzard wrap her paws around his hand when he heard a click in the front door. He sat up with a start.

Sandi waved and smiled at him through the window. He leaned his head back down as she slipped in. "Hi Rick! Got some guests."

He sighed tiredly. "Who?"

"Well, look at this! I never thought I'd see Rick Stetler playing Doctor!"

It was Alexx, carrying the metal incubator. Her young daughter Janie followed closely. "Just tell me where you want the babies."

Sandi nodded at the Ottoman where the IAB agent rested his feet. "This should be good."

"Mom, can I see them?" Janie begged, almost bobbing in her excitement. "Can I hold one?"

"Wait!" her mother said firmly. "They've been away from their mother, and they're scared." Opening the lid, she carefully reached in and pulled out Mister Ginger, who squealed and flailed.

"Look, Sweetie" Alexx said to her daughter, who looked on eagerly. "His eyes are opening. Now just hold him in your hand like this. Miss Sandi's getting their formula ready. Would you like to help feed them?"

"Yeah!" The girl fawned as her mother laid Mister Ginger into her hands. The kitten squealed and squirmed, pawing the air. "Mom, can I have him?"

"He's not weaned yet, Sweetie. Sergeant Stetler has to take care of him."

Janie pouted as she held the kitten close to her white tee shirt. Rick began to smile. She then held the flailing kitten up to him. "See? He's got one eye open" she said proudly.

"I'm gonna need your help feeding him" was all he could think to say.

"Okay, time for breakfast" Sandi said as she brought out four bottles of kitten formula. "Dr. Woods, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. I'm exhausted. Somebody brought in a Rottie involved in a hit-and run."

"Oh, it was my pleasure, Sweetie" she said as she carefully held up the tiny white girl kitten. "Looks like your eyes are opening, too." Eagerly the kitten reached out and wrapped its tiny paws around the syringe, gnawing the tip with her needle-sharp little teeth. Alexx smiled. "Aw. Baby, baby, baby?"

"Rick, I'm going to bed" Sandi announced. "Thanks again, Dr. Woods."

"I'll take care of things" he assured her.

Alexx smiled knowingly at the closed bedroom door. "Looks like the two of you get along, Rick."

Rick looked down to hide his embarrassment. "She's just letting me sleep on her couch till they get this case solved."

But there was no mistaking it. "I'd say Blizzard saved more than your life, honey."

* * *

><p>Horatio, Delko, Ryan, Calleigh, and Natalia stood around the lighted work table in the lab. Taped evidence bags, clothes, wires, and bloodstained towels lay neatly arranged, neatly labeled. All wore their lab coats. Nobody spoke. It was a Saturday morning, but they knew what they had to do.<p>

Delko nodded with a resolve. "Hey, I'm not a big fan of Stetler, but we all know that guy tried to kill him."

Horatio looked across the table at the CSI. "Yes, Eric, but as you know, it's up to us to give the DA an airtight case. Right now, the only evidence we really have against Steven French is Dean Cresswell's confession. The tracking device we found in French's laptop may prove premeditation to kill Stetler, but it doesn't put any murder weapons in his hand. It has to be airtight. No mistakes."

"Yeah, Dean Cresswell. Who conveniently died in holding" Delko sniffed.

Calleigh studied the evidence in front of them. "And then there's Byron Donovan. My dad really stepped out to take down that woman."

Horatio looked at her sympathetically. "Which is why I want everyone here to go back through everything."

Ryan sighed and slapped down a magnifier. "We've been over everything, H."

"Mr. Wolfe, Steven French can't be allowed to walk. Go back to every crime scene if you have to. Go back to Walter Mullinax's apartment. Talk to Tyler and see how it's coming. Go talk to Stetler and Dr. Hughes if you need to. Call me the minute you find something. Stetler and Blizzard are in hiding. We have to make sure Steven French never hurts anyone ever again."

"What about Byron Donovan?" Calleigh wanted to know.

"Let me deal with him." With that he slipped off his lab coat. "Anything happens, call me."

The CSI's looked at each other for a few minutes. Nobody spoke.

Ryan's phone chirped. "Hey, Tyler. We were just talking about you." He paused. "You sure? I'll be right there."

"What's going on?" Natalia wanted to know."

"Tell you later."

"Think I might have something" Tyler said to the monitor.

Ryan perked up as he sat down next to the AV tech. "Tell me."

"Both computers got wiped clean. Nothing."

"Steven French's fingerprints are on that jump drive that got ripped out of the computer. What are you saying?"

"I don't think Steven French knew that monitor had a video camera in the screen." He waved his finger over the top left. "I'm running a program called Grave Robber on it. It's able to bring up files that were erased up to fifteen years ago. It pieces together bytes that it thinks is related." He clicked on the icon. "Let's see what it does."

Both Tyler and Ryan held their faces just inches from the monitor. "It's even date and time stamped. This guy thought of everything" Tyler said.

"Lucky for us" Ryan agreed. "There's Walter Mullinax getting up to answer his door. Now Dean Cresswell's arguing with him. Now Walter looks scared. There he picks up Blizzard and dumps her out his back door. He's getting up again. He's back in his chair. Okay, there's French. He shoved Walter to the ground. Like Dr. Reese. There's the nine millimeter."

"And there's the blood on the video lens. Now Steven French yanks the jump drive out of the port. There it goes dead."

"Steven French was careful, but not careful enough." Without another word, Ryan dialed his cell phone. "Yeah, H. I'm in the AV lab. Tyler got it all right here. Walter Mullinax's computer. Steven French definitely shot him. It's all on the video cam."

Horatio dipped his head with a resolve. "Get me a copy of that immediately. That's all we need to put him away for life. Nice work, Mr. Wolfe. Tyler." With that he snapped his phone shut.


	22. Takedown

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22—Takedown<strong>

Horatio stood over the table and glared at his latest suspect. "Byron Donovan. You're a patient man. You took your time in planning this out."

The fiftysomething man proudly showed off the trophies of his success. He wore a light gray handmade suit and a large gold college ring. His skin was slightly weathered and his brown hair was graying, most likely from all those years of arguing and politicking his way to the top. He leaned forward and deliberately clasped his hands together, dipping his head, letting Horatio know that this was just a minor inconvenience. He then cocked his head contemptuously. "Hell of an accusation you're making, uh…."

He smiled. This wasn't his first self-aggrandizing lawyer. "Lieutenant…Horatio…Caine. Miami-Dade Police Department."

"I see."

"And you want to represent yourself with that kind of blood on your hands?"

He leaned back in the chair and sniffed. This wasn't his first legal chess game. "Lieutenant Horatio Caine. You better have something good, or I'm walking out that door. That means you're gonna have egg on your face while I have a little chat with the mayor about investigating the MDPD for false arrest!" He then leaned forward and leveled his eyes at the Lieutenant as he raised his voice slightly. "Because my face will be all over the press, the charges will be slander and libel! It's not gonna be over till you're writing parking tickets in Little Havana!"

Horatio nodded toward the glass wall. "Mr. Donovan, take a look through that window."

Byron Donovan cocked one eybrow. "This a game? Fine. If it'll make you happy." He turned around in his seat.

Secret Service Agent Peter Elliott and Special Agent Dennis Sackheim watched him through the glass. Those were real FBI badges. Byron Donovan put his hand on his chin. Each agent had his hand on the necks of a young man and young woman, both handcuffed behind their backs. Both looked at him haplessly through the glass. Peter Elliot looked sternly at them and pointed at Donovan through the glass. Both nodded sadly.

"Mr. Donovan, those two FBI agents brought in a couple of suspects, both of which had the identities of Ryan Wolfe and Calleigh DuQuesne."

The man furrowed his eyebrows. "That's impossible."

"Is it? Both rolled over on you, Mr. Donovan."

He snickered. But Horatio knew how to read faces. This powerful lawyer knew something.

"You see, as we speak, we're securing a warrant to search your firm's database."

"No! That's impossible. French—"

The man froze. His calm, collected face turned pale.

Horatio reached into his jacket pocket and held out a microcassette recorder. "You also know that I didn't need your permission to tape this conversation. Gentlemen?"

Byron Donovan tried to stand up and protest, but Peter Elliott and Dennis Sackheim burst through the door. "Byron Donovan, FBI! You're under arrest!" Special Agent Sackheim and Agent Elliott burst through the door and restrained the man at each arm. "Fraud! Money Laundering! Receiving Stolen Goods! Witness Tampering, and First-Degree Conspiracy!"

His face turned red with anger as the two agents stood him up, one by each arm. "This is entrapment!"

The lieutenant stood back while the two agents hustled the handcuffed man toward the door. "I'm allowed to lie, Mr. Donovan. You're not."

"Let's go!" Agent Elliot snarled as he and Sackheim hustled him out the door.

Peter Elliott grinned as Sackheim shuffled the red-faced, cursing lawyer down the blue hallway. "Nice going, Horatio."

The Lieutenant put his hands on his hips and stood toe-to-toe with the black-haired agent. "I want first crack at him, Agent Elliot."

"No go. ATF raided AMVW's warehouse and seized their computers this morning. Military supplies and bonds that were ready to be resold. Donovan's not gonna see the light of day for a long time. We also arrested Ryan Wolfe, Calleigh DuQuesne and, well…." He dipped his head.

Horatio looked at him sideways. "Tell me."

"Yelina Salas and…Tim Speedle."

He softened his look. "I see."

"He bought the stolen identities from Walter Mullinax and Dean Creswell. Paid some others to pose as police officers to guard the shipment that came in through AMVW's port warehouse. We nailed 'em. Now we have to go arrest Stephanie. If I were you, I'd run a check on each one of your officers. I'm sure some of the phonies are still out there."

"Miami-Dade PD? That means father and daughter belong to me first, Agent Elliot."

"Sorry Horatio. You know a military port is federal jurisdiction. Don't worry; it'll be a moot issue when we're done with them." He glanced through the window at the two handcuffed suspects. "I guess we better unhook those two."

"Yes" Horatio said. "They have work to do."

Agent Elliott and Horatio came out into the blue hallway where a small crowd was gathering.

Dan Cooper turned around and held up his wrists. "These things are uncomfortable!" Elliott smiled as he undid the handcuffs and pulled them off.

"It should be ladies first" Maxine Valera said as she turned around.

Dan Cooper grinned. "I don't know. Wolfe said you like the handcuffs."

"I should punch you!"

Peter Elliott undid her handcuffs next. She turned around and rubbed her wrists.

"Mr. Cooper? Miss Valera? Thanks for your help."

"Do I get overtime for this?" Dan Cooper smirked as he rubbed his wrists.

"You get the satisfaction of knowing we put away a killer. Now I know you have some work to do."

As Maxine Valera and Dan Cooper walked down the blue hallway, the black-haired agent watched. "We'd been after him for a long time."

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p><em>This is Erica Sykes with CVS News in Miami. Today, in a drastic turn of events in the Miami-Dade Identity Theft case, police in conjunction with FBI and Secret Service arrested Byron Donovan and his daughter Stephanie on a host of federal charges including money laundering, witness tampering, fraud, and conspiracy ."<em>

"Looks like you'll be able to go home now, Rick" Calleigh said as both watched the red-faced, cursing, handcuffed lawyer being hustled out of the Miami-Dade Police Headquarters through a sea of cameras and microphones.

Blizzard sat up in her box and watched as her kittens wobbled across the living room, exploring, pawing, and biting. Deciding everything was okay, she lay back and washed the scar on her belly.

Rick put his long, slender finger down to the floor where Mister Ginger sat and studied it. Finally he reared up and wrapped his tiny paws around Rick's finger. Rick pulled back gently. "Hey! I told you to stop biting!" Calleigh smiled. Through this experience he would always be the unrelenting IAB agent.

"You love those kittens, don't you?"

Rick looked at her warily. He couldn't let Calleigh know that the Head of Internal Affairs could be owned by a bunch of kittens. She smiled at him knowingly.

"Sandi named this one Mister Ginger."

"And what about the others?"

"Don't know."

"Well, I'm looking at those two gray ones." With each hand she picked up the two gray, squirming kittens. One reached out and tried to paw her hair, pulling it to his tiny mouth. She smiled and pulled back. "Both boys, both gun-metal gray. How about 'Smith' and 'Wesson'?"

For the first time it occurred to Rick that he may lose them. "So you want to adopt them when they're old enough?"

"Sure." She put the squirming gray kittens on her lap. One reached up and played with her hair, while the other one started to climb up her sleeve. "I like having two guys hang onto me at once."

"Okay. Soon as they're old enough, Smith and Wesson are yours."

"Thanks."

"Now what's the real reason you came by, DuQuesne?"

She handed him an envelope. "Dr. Hughes's office told me to give you this. I think it's the bill for saving Blizzard and the kittens."

Rick unfolded the paper and flipped through the pages. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "I can't pay this."

Calleigh craned her neck. "How much?"

"Over two grand!"

"Tell you what, Rick. I know what to do."

"What are you gonna do, Calleigh?"

With both hands she put Smith and Wesson down next to their mother, who leaned forward and sniffed them. "Just trust me."


	23. Somebody's Hero

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23—Somebody's Hero<strong>

Erica Sikes had been standing in the shade, watching herself in the mirror as she touched up her hair. But then Ryan said the word. She grimaced and glared at him.

_Cats!_

"Ew! I hate cats! And you want me to do _what_?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be a world-class reporter?"

"I'm a journalist" she corrected.

"You might get sent into a war zone, but you won't break the story about a cat that saved Miami? Nobody else knows about this yet. You'd be the first to break it."

The blonde reporter leveled her eyes at him. But nobody knew except the two of them. "Look, I kept up my end of the bargain! Stephanie Weller and the insider trading deal with AMVW. Wasn't that enough?"

Ryan smirked. "No, it wasn't. Now do you want dinner with me at The Silver Palm or not?"

She huffed and looked back into the little round mirror.

He shrugged with a smile. "Miami bloggers are gonna be all over it, but The Great Erica Sikes is a cat hater. Think about all those little old ladies who own cats and watch the news."

"I'm beginning to hate _you_!"

"Good. See you on the six o'clock news. Then I'll call you."

* * *

><p>"This is Erica Sikes with CVS in Miami. The City of Miami is just a little safer tonight, thanks to the actions of a hero cat! I'm here with police sergeant Rick Stetler." She leaned a little closer to his lap. "And who is this little hero?"<p>

"This is Blizzard" Rick said as he stroked the white cat who sat regally on his lap.

"Now Sergeant Stetler, it's true that Blizzard was shot in the stomach while trying to save your life the night they arrested Steven French?"

"That's correct" Rick said. "I can't say much about the case right now, but Blizzard protected me. She also helped the Miami-Dade PD to crack this case wide open. I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for this cat. There would also be fake police officers with fake badges in Miami."

Erica feigned fascination with the white cat who patiently watched her and the cameras. "Wow! Now Sergeant Stetler, I understand nobody knew Blizzard was pregnant when she was protecting you, but now she's a mother. She has four kittens?"

"That's right" Rick said. "We rushed her to the veterinary hospital, where they delivered her kittens and gave her a blood transfusion."

"Well. Why don't we have a look at her little family?"

Rick reached over and put the squirming white kitten on her lap. Eric tried hard not to wince as the kitten sniffed her blue pantsuit and squealed. "Hello there. So you must be proud of your mother. Now it's come to my attention that the cost to save the lives of these little heroes was substantial. Is that true?"

"Almost twenty-five hundred dollars. That includes the surgery, taking care of the kittens, their formula, shots, and checkups."

"I see. And after Blizzard saved your life that night, you returned the favor by adopting her and all four of her kittens. And now the Miami-Dade Police Department has called on our People Helper segment because of the veterinary bills."

"That's correct."

Erica Sikes then turned back to the camera. "The Miami-Dade Police Department has set up a special account at Miami Shores Mutual to help care for these hero cats. If you'd like to help, you can make checks payable to Blizzard's Veterinary Bills and send them to the address on the screen in care of Miami Shores Mutual. Sergeant Stetler, is there anything else the citizens of Miami could do to help this brave little family?"

The IAB agent shrugged. "The county animal shelter has lots of animals that are looking for homes. Think about adopting one."

"That's so true. Well, the City of Miami certainly owes Blizzard and her family a debt of gratitude, and you for taking them in. For CVS News in Miami, this is Erica Sikes."

* * *

><p>After all those days in Sandi's dark apartment, looking out at the dark skies, and just the general darkness of everything, Rick Stetler now squinted in the hot Miami daylight. Gently he opened the carrier door and scooped out Blizzard, careful not to hurt her stomach, which, while healed, was still very tender inside. She dug her claws into Rick's jacket, covering his lapel with white hair. "Stop getting me dirty" he warned, prying her claws off and then brushing his dark jacket. He kept his voice hushed, careful not to be heard by the sea of cameras and microphones.<p>

The Miami-Dade police chief, a bald, stocky man in his fifties, wearing his police uniform, stepped up to the podium and glanced over the crowd. Microphones and microcassette recorders were thrust into his face.

"Can I have your attention, please? Thank you. Any police department in America will have a canine unit, specially-trained dogs who catch suspects on the run or protect our human officers in many ways. These are courageous animals who put their lives on the line for public safety. Today, perhaps for the first time in the history of law enforcement, we're honoring a cat who also acted bravely. Her name is Blizzard. One night, Blizzard showed up at the door of one of our officers. The Miami-Dade Crime Lab discovered that someone had planted an electronic chip in her ear that has since been removed. This chip contained some sensitive information. She led Internal Affairs agent Rick Stetler to find fake police officers as well as a rogue officer in our ranks. When this officer tried to assassinate Sergeant Stetler, this brave cat stood between him and the suspect, assuming to protect him with one of her nine lives."

Some chuckles from the audience.

"Blizzard acted bravely in the line of duty, to crack one of the most dangerous and sinister crimes against our police department. Sergeant Stetler, would you kindly bring Blizzard to the podium?"

Rick tucked her hind legs underneath and placed her on a platform next to the podium. The white cat looked curiously at the cameras and microphones, and then at the chief.

"In the recent weeks that Blizzard's been under Sergeant Stetler's care, he has also become her handler."

"Behave" he whispered, standing over her head.

The chief now looked down at the curious cat. "Blizzard, for helping to solve a dangerous case and for protecting a police officer in the line of duty, we hereby make you an honorary Miami-Dade police officer."

The crowd clapped as the chief opened a velvet black box. "Every police officer has to have a badge, now. Blizzard, this collar has your badge on it, complete with number and name. Sergeant Stetler, would you please do the honors?"

Rick fastened the black collar around her neck while the crowd applauded. "This doesn't mean I'm gonna spoil you" he warned. "More than I already have."

* * *

><p>Sandi wore navy blue scrubs and white mules as she sat down and peered into the box. Blizzard lay on the old white blanket and looked up at her matter-of-factly while her kittens cuddled up to her stomach, sound asleep. With her fingers she held the new tiny badge. "So, Officer Blizzard, huh?"<p>

Rick sniffed. "Bet she makes Lieutenant before I do."

"I was afraid she might reject them or worse."

Rick pulled up a chair and sat close to her, also looking down at the small family. "Nope. She's doing fine. Those are some hungry kittens."

Sandi smiled and looked at Rick. He looked at her and smiled back. "You're doing a fantastic job with them, Rick. The night you brought them in? We didn't think they'd live."

"Yeah well, I guess you could say this cat saved my life too" he said softly to her.

"In a lot of ways, I think." She looked at the floor, blushing.

He looked into her eyes tenderly. "Sandi? Thanks for helping out."

"My pleasure."

She could feel the softness in his voice. Gently she put her hand to his unshaven face. Unable to help it anymore, she leaned up and touched his lips with hers, again and again. Rick put his arms around her and returned her kisses. For a moment the world disappeared and time stood still.

Finally she backed up from him, touching her cheek in embarrassment. "Rick, I gotta get to work. But I, uh, stopped by to drop these off."

Rick dipped his head, not sure whether he should have kissed her or not. Maybe she wasn't ready, he thought.

She handed him a white bag. "Here. I charged it to Blizzard's bill. Some more kitten formula and gauze pads."

With one finger Rick peeked into the bag. "Thanks."

Sandi was still blushing and biting her lip as she walked to the front door. "I better get going." For a moment Sandi and Rick looked at one another again. Finally Sandi reached down and squeezed his hand. "I'll call you." With that she slipped out the door, leaving him in the silence.

Rick Stetler dipped his head. Nobody ever made him feel like this. Not even Yelina.

He still thought about her kiss as he locked the front door and yawned. It was only nine, but between caring for the little heroes and having the press invade his life, he was more tired than usual. "Come on, everybody. Bedtime."


	24. Watching the Babies Grow

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: There is one chapter left after this one. I would like to thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I'm so glad you're enjoying this work. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24—Watching the Babies Grow<strong>

**Two Weeks Later**

_Weeeeeeew!_

Rick huffed as he screwed the cap onto the formula bottle. "Let me guess. You're starving to death. Am I right?"

_Weeeeeeew!_

"I'm starting to miss IAB. I'm spending my Saturdays feeding _you_!"

Four chubby, hungry kittens paced around within inches of Rick's bare feet, watching him expectantly as he stood at the counter and capped the formula bottles. The white kitten sat directly in front of his toes and pawed the air. Mister Ginger squealed. Smith and Wesson reared up on their tiny hind legs.

Rick groaned. He had barely slept the night before after one of the gray brothers managed to escape from the box. The kitten had climbed up onto the mattress and thrown up on his pillow, mere inches from Rick's sleeping face. Now his black hair poked out like horns. His green eyes were bloodshot. He hadn't shaved in several days. And his back ached.

_Weeeeeew!_

Blizzard sat patiently several feet away, her blue eyes watching him.

_Rowr?_

He leveled his baggy eyes at her. "You just better appreciate this!"

Rick was just about to cap the formula bottle when he suddenly felt needles in the backs of both legs. He stiffened up and yelped. The formula bottle and the cap flew in opposite directions, spewing kitten formula through the air and landing on the floor with a SPLAT!

"Great! Will you look at this?" He cursed under his breath as he turned around to find Smith and Wesson climbing his pants leg. He was about to pluck them off when they let themselves drop to the floor and descend on the puddle of formula.

He had grabbed a handful of paper towels and was about to mop up the mess when he saw all four kittens lapping it up from every side. Blizzard walked up and licked the drops of formula off the cabinets.

"What am I doing? There! Eat your breakfast!"

The doorbell rang. He could see through the window that it was the team from the crime lab. He waved at them with one hand while rubbing the backs of his legs with the other. "It's open!"

Horatio came through the door and looked around the living room. Compared to the neatness and order that was usually Rick Stetler's living room, it now looked as though babies lived there. Alexx and Calleigh followed him.

"Looks like you're a little busy, Rick" Horatio said with a slight grin. It amused him that the vigilant IAB agent was now more of a tired father these days.

Calleigh smiled. "I'm beginning to wish I'd brought my camera. Is that your cleanup crew?"

"Aw, let's see those little darlings. My goodness, they're getting big!" Alexx fawned as she stepped into the kitchen. "You sit down for a while, Rick. Take a load off. I'll take care of the little ones."

Rick plopped down on his couch and sighed. "Thanks."

After several minutes, Alexx came out with a freshly filled formula bottle and sat down, draping a towel across her lap as the hungry kittens climbed up and pawed at her. "Okay, who's first? We just need to give Daddy a little break, don't we?" She picked up the white kitten. "Aw, look at you! Yes! You're getting _sooooo_ big!"

Rick leaned his head against his fist. "So what's going on?"

Horatio reached into his pocket and handed his rival a check. "Rick, I just thought you might like to know. Since putting out the word on Blizzard's veterinary bills, we've had quite a response.

Rick unfolded the check. He'd been tired all morning, but now he perked up. "Half a million dollars?"

"There's more."

Frank bumped through the door with a large box in his arms. Delko followed him with two cartons of kitten formula. "Where you want these, Stetler?"

He couldn't help but stand up. "What is all that stuff?"

"Donations from pet store chains. Cat toys, cat beds, kitten food. They all came to the crime lab while you were gone. Must be enough for a hundred cats in here" Delko said as he laid the box down. "Tyler and Coop had their blogger friends put out the word on the web, while Wolfe talked to Erica Sikes."

"Where is Wolfe right now?"

"Lunch at the Silver Palm. He owed her big."

"There's still five more boxes at the crime lab" Frank said. "Also bags of cat food, cat litter, you name it."

As Rick knelt down to look at the packaged cat toys, flea collars, and round cat beds, he looked up at the CSI's. For once he had no words.

"Not only that, Rick, but we received some offers to adopt the kittens, one from as far away as Saudi Arabia."

"Really?"

"Tyler got an email this week. There's a princess in Riyadh who's willing to pay you ten thousand dollars for the white kitten. She'll even fly the kitten out there. All expenses paid."

With one hand Rick picked up the wiggly white kitten and just looked into her tiny blue eyes.

"Well?" Calleigh said with a smile. "She'll be part of royalty."

Rick hesitated.

"No she won't."

Horatio raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Sandi had her tested. She's deaf. Seventy percent of white cats with blue eyes are."

Alexx looked up from feeding Smith and Wesson. "Oh, well that shouldn't be a problem, Sweetie. By the way, have you picked a name for her yet?"

Rick shrugged. "Crystal."

"I don't think the royal family will care that she's deaf."

He looked down at Crystal, who sat and glanced around at the big humans. "We already promised her to somebody."

"Who?" Horatio wanted to know.

"Can't say."

"Not gonna give us a hint?" Alexx cajoled.

Rick tightened his lips and shook his head.

* * *

><p>It was another quiet evening as Rick sat on the foot of his bed, watching the box full of scratching, biting, squirming little pink paws and fur. This time it was different. Monday he would be back at normal IAB duty for the first time since the night Blizzard was shot. Things would be back to normal now. She was fully healed now and being a mother. He glanced at the folded check on his nightstand. He would pay Dr. Hughes some time on Monday, as soon as he could break away from duty. The county animal shelter would get most of the money and supplies.<p>

Things will never be normal, he thought. Not like they were.

As he looked down at the chewed-up box again, something caught his attention. He could hear a strange scraping and scratching in his closet. He huffed and threw up his hands. "Better not be another mouse!" Slowly and quietly he crept into his closet and snapped on the light.

"Gimme that!"

Mister Ginger had Rick's black dress shoe, holding on with his tiny orange paws. His needle-sharp claws had scratched the shine. He had been gnawing the shoelace. Now he blinked in the light and looked up at the big human.

"You slobbered my shoes!" He huffed. "Maybe I _should've_ named you Horatio, you know that? You cause me about as much trouble!"

He knelt down and, with both hands, carefully separated the kitten from his shoe. The shoelace was frayed and had saliva on it. Mister Ginger kept reaching out, trying to grab his big new toy yet again. Rick put the orange kitten back in with his brothers and sister where he looked up again with those tiny eyes.

"You're gonna ruin all my stuff" he muttered, looking down at the mass of waving, wobbling pink legs and fur. "And I gotta go back to work Monday."

Finally he picked up the box and set it on the bed. "Okay, that's it." He rapped the side of the box gently with his knuckle. "Sandi's gonna take care of you when she gets home from work, but I'm gonna be gone during the day starting Monday. Except for Crystal, I know you're old enough to hear me, so it's time for us to have some rules in this house." He stood over the box, giving them that commanding IAB glare. "First of all, there's no drinking out of the toilet." He looked at the tiny holes on his mattress cover. "There will be no more climbing up the sheets." He picked up his black dress shoe and sneered. "There will be no scratching or biting my shoes! This is mostly for you, Smith and Wesson. No puking hairballs on my pillow." He then put the box back down on the floor and pointed to his mattress. "And if you don't remember anything else, remember this. That's my bed and not yours. Everybody got it?"

One of the gray brothers bit Mister Ginger's tail. He squealed and swatted him. Crystal looked up at him curiously.

With one hand Rick picked up the other gray brother and looked into his tiny green eyes. "Just like the lab. Nobody listens to me there either."


	25. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**A/N: This is the final chapter of this story. I truly want to thank MOOCHIECAT, WOLFSONG98, HARMYSINGS, YES IM EM, MUMMACASS, DEREKMORGANSGIRLFORVER, and anyone I might have forgotten for the wonderful reviews. I'm humbled. The next Horatio/Rick story will be "Stealing Thunder", and will be down the road aways. **

**Also, a heads up: From here on out you will see me under the name Tarheelveteran. I considered changing my name back to Jag Lady because I thought it sounded elegant, but I just couldn't after my experience with them. See you back out there. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25-Epilogue<strong>

**One Year Later**

Rick rested his head on his fingers, massaging his green eyes. After two rounds of investigations, he could barely stay awake. It was ten o'clock at night now, and the lights of the interrogation room seemed to scream down on him.

Friday night. The kittens were all gone. No working this weekend. That meant he could forget about the lab and relax this weekend. Hopefully spend time with Sandi.

Just then his cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his belt clip and flipped it open, turning around. "Okay. Yeah, I know you're at work. I'm just wrapping up. I'll take care of it when I get home, okay? I love you too." He made kissy noises into the phone before snapping it shut and reholstering it.

Rick had his back turned to the door when Maxine and Natalia strolled up to the doorway. They glanced at one another knowingly at hearing Rick kiss into the phone Sensing a presence behind him, he turned around.

"You need me for something?" he nearly snapped, knowing they'd overheard him.

"Funny you should mention, it, Rick" Natalia said with a smile, handing him a message slip.

He held his hand out and glanced at the pink piece of paper. "What's this?"

"From your wife. Got mixed up with my messages. Word for word it says 'She's getting into things again. I have to get to work, so get your butt home and take care of it.'"

He glared at them. "I can read it, thank you! Now the County's paying you overtime, Valera and Boa Vista. Shouldn't you get back to work?"

Natalia and Maxine stepped out the door into the blue hallway. "Better take care of it" Maxine teased.

"I had to let women take over my life, didn't I?" Rick grumbled as he patted the message between his hands.

Valera turned around. "What'd you say, Rick?"

Rick stiffened up. The last thing he needed as the newly married head of IAB was a sexual harassment complaint. He cleared his throat. "Nothing, nothing. I'll take care of it."

Sandi had left the foyer light on for him. Rick smiled as he came through the door and slipped off his jacket, setting his portfolio on the table. Experience taught him to put his jacket, his tie, and his shoes in a higher-up place and close the closet door. He loosened his tie and looked around.

Silence. Beautiful, wonderful silence.

A wrinkled yellow piece of paper on the coffee table caught his attention.

_Sweetheart—  
>Sorry I had to take off for work. Could you please find her and make her settle down? I love you very much. Sandi.<em>

Rick smiled and held the note tightly in his fist. He and Sandi didn't get to spend much time together because she worked the night shift, but she was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

Now to find the other one.

"Okay!" Sleepily he walked around the house, looking over chairs, under the coffee table. "Somebody forgot the rules again. Let's go over it one more time." He carefully lowered himself to his knees and peeked under their old couch. "There's no climbing on the curtains. No drinking out of the toilet." As he wandered into the bedroom, he wrinkled his nose at the bed skirt that Sandi had bought. "There's also no climbing or clawing the blankets!"

His yellow-striped tie lay scattered on the floor. He picked it up and looked at it. It shined, and there were tiny holes in the ends. With two fingers he picked up as he turned up his nose. "And absolutely no slobbering on my neckties!"

In the darkness he could see those glowing eyes. He snapped on the light.

"There you are!"

Crystal curled up on the middle of the bed, only opening her eyes to acknowlege him. Blizzard blinked in the sudden light and washed her side. It was just him. She lay her head back down.

"And this is not your bed!"

Rick knew Crystal was deaf, but she could understand gestures. With each hand he scooped up both mother and daughter and put each in their cat beds before he went into the closet and changed into his old clothes. "Both of you better stay in your beds!"

Rick was too tired to have any real dinner, so he had a snack before going to bed. He had snapped off the light and slipped under the covers. Yawning and covering his eyes, he rolled over onto his back.

_MAAAAAAR!_

He flailed wildly and sat up, snapping on the light.

Crystal looked at him reproachfully and washed her paws.

Rick groaned. "Stupid cat! I'm gonna squash you one of these days!"

Both cats sat perched on the corner, but now they wandered up toward him.

"You know she doesn't like you sleeping on the bed!" He pointed to the floor. "Now get down! I mean it!"

First Crystal, then Blizzard walked up and rubbed against his finger, rubbing their soft, white bodies against his arm. Like all the other battles, Rick was going to lose. He lay his head back down on the pillow and faced them. "Fine. But when she comes home, you're going back in your beds."

Blizzard curled up on Sandi's pillow next to his head. Rick knew he would have to take the lint roller to it. Crystal curled up on the spot in front of his face.

With a resolve he snapped off the light one last time. He could hear two sets of purrs in the darkness. He leaned out his arm so both cats could love him some more.

"Night." With that he closed his eyes.


End file.
